To Search Inside Your Soul
by writealittle
Summary: Angel has left Sunnydale and Buffy. What happens when you divide two true soulmates? Can Angel undo what has been done to save his one true love?
1. Chapter 1

**Angel has left Sunnydale and Buffy. What happens when you divide two true soulmates? Can Angel undo what has been done to save his one true love?**

**Canon up to Season 3 Buffy. Set in Season 4 BtVS, Season 1 Angel. Please note, I have not seen any Angel episodes, except for IWRY. So, this story will be using characters mainly from BtVS, but will also feature Doyle and Wesley. In this fanfic, there is no Parker or Riley incidents. There will be several chapters to this story. Not sure how many yet. I will probably update every few days or so.  
**

**Disclaimer - I do not own BtVS/Angel or their characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

Empty. Nothing. Is it possible to be void of feelings and emotions altogether? Buffy is powerless, standing there feeling an overwhelming numbness like her very inner-being has left her. Well, that's not far from the truth. It just left her in the form of Angel, her dark and mysterious, creature-of-the-night, vampire boyfriend...errrr...ex-boyfriend now. Thinking hurts and certainly the mere thought or idea of even feeling any emotions is going to tip her over the edge. Sighing, Buffy is consumed by fear, knowing she can't go there right now. Right now, The Ascension is over and all she can think is nothing. Nothing.

Looking around her at the devastation, is this all her life will be? She looks down at her bruised and calloused hands and wipes some dust from her pants. Confusion. Where do you start, what do you do? No more Mayor or Ascension. No more high school. No more Snyder.

No more Angel.

Looking behind her, Buffy sees her family. Her 'scoobies' - thank god everyone made it through - there's Giles, Willow, Xander, Cordelia and Oz. She knows that they'll be needing her and the world will need her too. What more does a champion have to give? Tired of sacrificing everything she loves for this world and for everyone elses happiness. Slowly, Buffy makes her way to the others, trying to maintain a facade of normal Buffy. What is normal? What will they expect of her? The 'Buffy', Buffy, not the 'Slayer destiny girl' Buffy.

"Hey guys" she offers, sitting down next to Willow. "I think we've pretty much done everything we can. You guys wanna take off?"

As usual, not seeing the enormity of the situation or the full picture, Cordelia is the first to happily speak up.

"I'm for it" she smiles to the group. Smiling. Buffy need to do this, she knows she needs to appear okay. She needs to be happy for them. The last time Buffy couldn't cope with losing Angel, she left them all. She can't do that again to them, or to her Mom. She needs to keep it together.

"You okay?" Willow interrupts her reverie. Buffy, full well knowing the hidden question, knows Willow isn't wondering about the cuts and bruises inevitably to be found on Buffy's body after this battle. She's talking about the ones on Buffy's heart. How to answer though? How do you explain it is for certain, that she is a little less of herself than she was before Angel walked out of her life? How can anyone understand what is happening? How do you explain it? Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Buffy simply offers, "Yeah. I'm okay. I just..." _just want to be nothing and no-one, nowhere right now. _"I could use a little sleep." Knowing she can't tell the truth, she has to be the strong one. Yep, holding it together. Willow looks at Buffy questioningly , clearly expecting some more emotion. Knowing she isn't satisfied with Buffy's answer, but being the best friend she is, she accepts it nonetheless.

"Yeah..." Willow sighs.

"If somebody could just wake me up when it's time to go to college, that'd be great." And since the moment that she watched Angel disappear into the smoke, she's been able to voice an honest thought. Desperately wanting to be void of any thoughts, feelings and sense of time. Buffy hears them talking through the experience that was The Ascension - and also high school, not being able to muster the ability to really care. It's easier to appear part of this conversation, than actually participate in it.

Sighing in resignation, and wanting to just get away from this for now and try to deal, Buffy stands up and puts her hands in her pockets. With all the strength she has in her, she looks up and smiles at the group. "Look guys, I'm really beat. I'm just going to head on home...". Looking at their faces, a sense of expectation. "...And thanks. Thanks for everything, you guys were awesome." Gratitude. Strangely meaning it but yet, not feeling it. It's her Watcher, Giles who can see that, that special Buffy 'spark' isn't there. Looking deeper into Buffy's hazel eyes he offers gently, "yes, quite right Buffy. It was...ahem...'awesome'." Drawing a few stifled giggles from the teens. "Get some well-deserved rest Buffy. Please, do take care".

And with that, Buffy turns and opens her hardened eyes to the world ahead. What to expect and for the first time feeling like she genuinely doesn't care. She will be facing it alone. Surrounded by people and yet so incredibly lonely. For a brief second, feeling scared about this new revelation, she hesitates to take the first step into her future. Knowing she can't stand in limbo between living and existing forever, she determinedly puts one foot in front of the other. Though, not making a sound, the notion to her feeling nothing less than a meteor shattering into earth.

No going back now.

There is one thing she needs to do. Arriving home, she walks into the dark empty house. A small part of her, deep down in the recesses of her now dead-feeling heart, feeling grateful that her mother left town before the Ascension. Knowing that she needs to physically, emotionally and mentally 'pack away' the memories and feelings, Buffy walks up the stairs to her room. Looking straight to the window, the habit rings true. Though, she knows he isn't there, that feeling of hope still lingers. Closing her eyes and with steely determination, Buffy takes a hold of this feeling and quashes it. Shuts it into a memory box named 'Angel', not to be re-opened ever again. That part of her life died and a part of her soul died with it. Walking to her dresser, she packs away the necklace he gave her. Back when times were simpler. When she was innocent. No, that's a lie. Buffy was born a slayer and was never truly innocent. She knows that something inherently demon is coursing through her veins. Where else do her powers stem from?

Next she steps towards her wardrobe. A quick memory flashes before her. Angel spending the day in there after their first night together in her room. Automatically, she feels herself smiling. Again, taking that particular feeling and shutting it too, in that Angel-box. Knowing she can't survive the rest of her life on memories alone, she mentally prepares herself to be shutting these thoughts away constantly over the coming months...years even. This town is only full of the pain, happiness and passion that was her and Angel. Sucking in a breath and holding tears at bay with a force she didn't know she had, she looks forward and takes hold of Angel's leather duster. As a last final good bye, she breathes in the jacket's aroma. To anyone, the scent of the soft, supple leather would be dominant, yet, to Buffy...to Buffy, all she could smell was Angel. That undeniable fragrance that was distinctly Angel. Hesitating on what was happening to her, Buffy almost fights this, this...fate. Yet, deep down she knows she cannot undo this now. It has been decided and not by her hands. By her Angel. NO. No. Not, 'her' Angel anymore.

At that, she yanks the duster from the wardrobe with frustration. Scrunching it up into a messy bundle and with no emotion left in her, she dumps the jacket with the necklace into a box aptly titled 'Old Junk', in the bottom of her wardrobe. There was a time that no power on earth or the depths of hell could keep her away from Angel and these once special artifacts. Now, it was just a flimsy card-board box kept together with packing tape, closed behind a door that imitated her inner-self.

Closing the doors, she turns back to her bed. Wincing in pain, from both the past and also the physical pain in her abdomen, she decides to take care of the latter first. This particular hurt being more tangible than the other. Changing direction to the bathroom she switches the light on and catches her breath at the sight in the mirror. Who is that girl, no – woman, in front of her? Not recognizing herself and the look behind her eyes, she runs a timid hand down her cheek, flinching with the hurt behind her soft skin. She was going to have a mighty bruise there tomorrow. Ignoring this for now, she steps closer towards the mirror and stares into her eyes. The door to the soul. Only, hers appeared empty. Nothing to see but an emptiness, a blank and emotionless look, staring right back at her.

With nothing left to do, but get on with it, she undresses, taking particular care of her right side. Buffy peers down to inspect the damage and notices a deep wound from her right rib cage towards her belly button. Seeing the tell-tale signs of her slayer-healing already, she turns on the shower, to a scalding hot, which fills the room with steam in no time at all. Stepping into the shower, Buffy allows the water to wash away the grime and blood, along with the pain and the hurt that she is banishing away for the remainder of her existence. Not cheating herself from a moment of sensation, she allows a single tear to fall. Quickly, it becomes engulfed and washed away by the steaming jets of water from the shower head. Again, the symbolism is not lost on Buffy, her soul feeling the same way as that lonesome tear.

After a long time rinsing off the physical dirt, Buffy dries herself of and takes a look again in the mirror. Still, the same cold, no feeling eyes peek back at her. Not knowing what else she was expecting to see, she slowly makes her way back into the bedroom. Looking around the room, the same empty-feeling space she left behind not even 20 minutes ago. Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Buffy coughs awkwardly – reminding her of the gash across her torso. With the practiced ease of someone who has clearly done this before, Buffy sees to the wound with some dressing and tape. Looking down and nodding at her workmanship she dresses in her pajamas, taking great care to ignore any Angel-sized items that may yet be lingering in her dresser. She will deal with those in due time.

All that is left is to lay down on her bed and allow sleep to claim her. Although her dreams are not always particularly pleasant, she is unsure of what dreams may come from the subconscious mind of someone with a dying soul. And it hits her. Like a punch she has never felt before in the physical world, this one strikes to whatever is left inside her so hard, she lunges forward with confusion and surprise.

She knows what is happening.

Her soul is dying.

The Buffy part of herself takes a moment to digest this revelation. What can I do to fix it? Acknowledging that she is powerless to fix this, she already knows that there is only one way and the answer lies with her soulmate.

Pondering this for a further moment, she asks herself two things. Firstly, how is Angel coping with this? And secondly, how long does she have to live – no, exist – like this?

With the weight of the world on her shoulders and yet the burdens of her emotions and feelings now lifted, Buffy lays down on her bed and takes a firm hold of her pillow next to her. Staring blankly into the dark – avoiding looking in the direction of the window, Buffy allows sleep to claim her.


	2. Chapter 2

**This one was pretty much already written, so here's a second chapter for you.**

**For anyone wondering, I already have the 'bones' of the story put together, so it shouldn't take me long to finish.  
**

**Disclaimer - I do not own anything from BtVS or Angel. They are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

**Chapter 2**

3 Months Later

After another relatively uneventful night on patrol, Buffy walks towards Giles' apartment. Looking up at the door, she reigns herself in to prepare for the facade that she has become so adept at wearing. This mask of normalcy. Yet, she continues on being the perfect slayer. Dusting off her clothes before she walks in (Giles previously threatening Buffy with the carpet cleaning bills), she pastes a small smile on her face.

"Hey guys" she looks around at her friends. Recently, Willow has made friends with another Wicca, Tara who always appears to look at Buffy strangely. Although this makes Buffy somewhat uncomfortable, she doesn't care enough to feel anything by it. Looking away from Tara's gaze, Buffy shrugs, "Whatchya doin?" Walking away from his book shelf, Giles turns toward the table with a rather thick and dusty tome. Looking down at her, Giles smiles "Well, I was going to ask the same thing actually. Well, more along the lines of, 'how did patrol go tonight' rather." Giles coughs uncomfortably, still after 3 years, not quiet used to the customs of 'teenager speak'.

"Well Giles, no need to be grammar-police, but since you asked...not overly exciting on the vampire slayer front...why has it been so quiet lately?" Almost anxiously, Buffy prods for some action, some information around why she doesn't have a distraction to keep her going. Slaying was the only thing she was really doing at the moment.

"Buffy, both Willow and I are conducting research on this same topic right now. Why the activity around an active Hellmouth is so low...I don't understand. It almost speaks of some terrible danger coming our way..." Nervously, he removes his glasses and first rubs at his forehead with his spare hand.

"Well, okay, you tell me who and where to slay and you can call me 'Slayer-girl', as in, 'who-you-gonna-call?' but not in the ghost-bustery way...wait, could there be ghosts coming?..." Buffy slumps down on the couch.

"Uuuhhh, Buffy, don't be so needy with the baddy stuff? I mean, this is a good time for you to be able to focus on other things, like college and your studies?...ummmm...dating, maybe?" Willow offers from her usual position at the table. Looking behind her, Tara gives her a look of encouragement to continue on. "I mean, it's been three months since..." looking back at Buffy she takes note of the blank look behind her eyes, half expecting some kind of emotion at the idea of someone bringing up the topic. Sighing, Willow finishes lamely, "...since...since The Ascension. Maybe we need some down time to get ourselves ready for what – might I add – MIGHT come in the future?" Not wanting to start babbling, Willow frantically looks back at her laptop, trying to appear deeply involved with the program. Thanking the powers for Tara's presence, she is grateful to feel a calming hand grip her shoulder.

"I know Wills, I understand, it's just that I'm getting bored. I'm itchy. I almost slayed my blanket this morning when it trapped my foot. I need some slayer-ey action and soon. I need something to be responsible for" Buffy looked around the room. All three were looking at her like she had grown a second head. "What? Why is that so strange?"

"Well Buffy..." Giles began.

"I'm back – yep, snack boy has returned, Whose your daddy hey?" Xander slams the door with his foot, wiggling his eyebrows at the tension in the room. "What? What'd I miss? What's the big-bad?" With a sarcastic smile, Xander drops the donuts on the table.

"We were just discussing the lack of demonic activity at the moment, actually" Giles offered, looking annoyed at the interruption.

"Yeah well, you know what is evil? That lady at the donut store. She tried to tell me they had no jelly donuts left! Evil I say. I got 'em anyway ladies! Anything for my bunch of beauties!" Grabbing one for himself, Xander takes a generous bite. Allowing a drop of jelly to fall on his shirt. "oh crap" he mutters. Almost seeing some life in Buffy, she surprisingly jumps from the couch.

"Evil? As in stabby, stabby through the heart evil? Where is she at Xan? Point me in her direction!"

"Err, well as much as I love action-Buffy, no need for slayage in that department. Pretty sure this was just the evil of the typical gluttony kind Buffster!" Xander offered one of his cheeky smiles.

Seeing the urgency of the situation, Giles adds "Buffy, why don't you head home for now. We'll keep on researching any prophecies that may be set for now. Maybe do one more sweep before you get there? Tomorrow, please do report on any activity you notice. And please, no uhhh, 'stabby, stabby' as you put it, unless it is of course the undead." He looks at her, desperately wanting to see something behind her eyes. For a moment he is hopeful for something as she hesitates but then she looks down at her feet. As if in a moment of decision.

"Well, okay Giles. Whatever you say" and he knows that hope is dashed for now. "I'll sweep the north cemeteries again and hit the sack. Let me know how you all go with the research party".

And with that, Buffy disappears through the door. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Xander sits up out of his chair. Pointing a thumb at the door, he shakes his head "I don't know what is up with her, but we need to figure this out guys".

"Yes, well too-right Xander. The real Buffy has been gone for some time now. Since..." Giles removes his glasses again, this time delving into his pocket, he retrieves his cloth and begins cleaning. A comfort blanket for the watcher.

"...since Angel left" Willow finishes. They all look around and nod to one another in agreement. Even Xander, the president of the 'we hate Angel club' appears to be agreeing vehemently. "Guys, what are we going to do? We've been researching this for weeks now and still no change. I miss Buffy. I miss our Buffy, what happened? I need to fix this, we need to fix this. She needs help Giles and I'm her best friend" beginning to panic, Willow feels tears welling up. Taking a reassuring hand from Tara, she finishes "...and I feel useless to do anything. Giles we need to call Angel. He may be able to help." She turns and hugs Tara, seeking comfort in her arms.

"Very well. I shall contact Angel. Though, I don't know exactly what is wrong with Buffy. Just that, she isn't...well, Buffy. What we need to understand is that maybe Buffy has simply changed as a result of so much in her life evolving right now". Although he doesn't believe his own words, stating them out loud seems to help at that very moment.

"And you keep living the dream G-Man. Keep living the dream! I, however, am with Willow on this one" Xander, nodding his head in Willow's direction "I don't think Buffy has changed. I think she isn't there. It's like she is gone, but here. You all know what I mean, right?" He scratches his head in confusion.

"Giles..." Willow stands up and walks to Giles, pleading with her eyes "Giles, please I'm desperate. We really need to fix this, we need some answers and soon. She can't be like this forever Giles" and at that thought, Willow loses her resolve, allowing the tears to fall freely. Walking over to her makeshift desk, Willow closes her laptop and secures it in her bag. Walking to the door she turns and looks at Giles "Please Giles. You know what you need to do".

Giles looks back at the redhead and slowly he loses his resolve. "Yes Willow...Xander. You are quite right. Something isn't right. I'll contact Angel right now and I'll let you know the outcome". After a brief silence, Willow walks out the door.

With a shrug that displayed more nonchalance than his feelings, Xander picks up the box of donuts "Well, that was the quickest research party I've been to in well...since...ever. These bad-boys won't get wasted though, catchya G-Man!" and without another word, walks out the door as quick as he had entered.

Staring quizzically at the door, Giles scratches his forehead. The burden of the situation hitting him fully. Knowing what he needed to do, he couldn't help but hesitate. The truth of the past between he and Angel was tarnished with the memories of Angelus. And Jenny. Sighing at the thought and the feelings this situation was dredging up, there was nothing to it. He needed to swallow up his differences with the en-souled vampire and be the one to make contact. Not because he wanted to, because he had to.

Even during his internal monologue, Giles found himself in front of the phone, flicking through the phone numbers next to the desk. He had to do what was right. Coming to the entry he was looking for, he paused at Willows neat handwriting. Grateful that her and Cordelia had maintained some semblance of contact. For right now, it could very well save his slayer, his daughter.

Picking up the receiver, he slowly dials the unfamiliar number, waiting not so patiently for a response.

Meanwhile, in LA

"Look, all I'm gonna say is that, this" spinning around and pointing to herself "look does not come cheap. It's time we make some money from this – heck it's time I make more money doing this...this...whatever this is...GAH!" Cordelia huffs in annoyance. Again, Angel is saving the world and not getting any thanks for his efforts. He needs to survive as well. Well, if she is being honest, she knows that a 250-odd, year old vampire wouldn't have lived that long without making some smart investments, but still, she needed to be paid. Hanging her head in her hands, Cordelia sighs. There's no use. The man is as stubborn as a mule.

"Angel, she does have a point. We are running low on whiskey. Maybe it is time we consider this as an idea? I mean clients probably feel better giving something for getting something, am I right?" Doyle looks up at Angel, who is clearly going into deep brood mode. Well, not that he had ever _not _been in brood mode, but he had levels. "Look Angel, just think on it okay?"

Looking at Doyle and Cordelia, Angel forces a curt nod. The whole idea was ridiculous. Trying to make good, all his wrong-doings in the past and they are expecting money? Angel had money. Lots of money. Not that he wanted to think about _how _he had accumulated said money right now, and that was besides the point. The point was, he was trying to atone for his sins. "Look guys, I'm getting some rest. I'll think on it."

With a satisfied smirk, Cordelia began filing her nails. "See, Doyle. Just give it some time, he'll come around" she flicks her hair behind her back "I need to get me those Manolo's and soon!"

Staring at her in disbelief, does that girl even understand Angel's situation? Doyle shakes his head "Yeah, alright kiddo, but I'm headed out. As I said" and with a nod toward the liquor cabinet "we are out of Whiskey" Grinning from ear to ear, Doyle makes his way out the door.

"Men!" Shrugging her shoulders, Cordelia returns to her nails. Frowning at one particularly defiant nail she is interrupted by the phone ringing. Considering ignoring it, she thinks back to the last time she missed an important call and sighs "Geez, what now?"

And with all the politeness she could find, Cordelia regrettably picked up the phone. "Angel Investigations, we help the...what do you want?" rolling her eyes, she turns back to the offending nail, waiting for the desperado to start whining and moaning about some scary something or other. As if it mattered to her anyway? Why should she care?

And then she was brought back to reality.

"Giles?!...well, I do work here...yes, I know what work means! Sheesh! Rude much?...Oh, right, Angel...he's not here right now, something I can help with?...okay, well I can pass a message, hang on I need to write this down..." grabbing the closest thing in her vicinity, Cordelia spots a tissue and an eyeliner pencil "yep, got it, go ahead...okay, I'll let Angel know when he's back...okay, yep, I will...okay see ya Giles" and with that, she hung up the phone. Knowing there was nothing she could do now and Giles not indicating it was world-ending drama, she started rummaging through her purse for the perfect nail color. Picking out a fuchsia pink, she starts painting. Getting lost in the moment, she didn't notice Angel until he was standing in front of her.

"Uh, Cordelia?" Angel asks, seeking her attention, which in fact startles her. Enough to spill the nail varnish all over the counter. Reaching for the first thing to wipe it up, she uses a tissue...the tissue with Giles' note 'O_h no, what was it he was saying? What was the number?'_

"Cordelia, Cordelia – hello?" Angel waves his hand in front of her face.

"Uhhh, yeah, umm, what?" she tries to focus whilst she continues to wipe up the mess.

"Well, I was thinking about the charging clients idea. We might just do that. Let me think about it a bit more and let's talk later, okay?" He looks at her, something doesn't seem right, but she beams at him with a smile that is nothing short of infectious. Managing a smile in return, he asks what he came to talk about. "Was that someone on the phone? A client?"

Not wanting to distract him from the important details at hand – mainly those pair of Manolo's, Cordelia shakes her head "Ahhhh, ummm no. Just a, a friend! No client. Nope, no job tonight. Plenty of time for us to sit down and talk about this payment idea!" and with a giggle she throws the tissue in the trash and jumps up. "I gotta jet – there's some serious window shopping calling my name. Thanks Angel!" And with that, she was out the door.

Shaking his head, Angel walked back to his room. Opening the door, his eyes went straight to the book he was currently reading. Well, not actually reading, he wouldn't have been able to tell you what the book was if his life depended on it. Like a moth to the light, he walked to the book and opened it to his drawing of Buffy. Just thinking her name alone brought up so many emotions. Not least of which the most recent one. Angel was confused. Each and every day he could sense he was losing contact with her soul. Although it hurt him to think of it that way, his only explanation was that she had moved on...to someone else. She was pulling away as maybe her heart belonged to someone else now? Now that he had made the decision to leave her. Isn't this what he wanted? A normal life for her? The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. In another life he would love to be with her. Be a normal man and be able to take her into the light. He always felt that her beauty was beyond imagining...but in the light, he imagined she would be nothing less than an angel. Not by namesake as he was, but really, in the sun she would glow and she would be an angel. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he stares deeper into the image, getting lost in the depths of her eyes and yet, still frustrated by the fact he could not quite capture the life behind them. Regardless, he could picture her eyes without looking at them.

He closed his eyes and held the picture to his non beating heart.

Sighing, he knew it was the truth. He was brooding and he could think of no better way than to spend all of eternity thinking about the only woman he has ever or would ever love.

_Always, that's the point, right?_


	3. Chapter 3 - part (a)

**Chapter 3**

**Set during Pangs, but focusing more on how Buffy feels with Angel around. Contains some quotes from this episode. **

**Had to keep writing. I just really need to get the story out!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BtVS or Angel. All characters are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

Standing by the window of her dorm room, Buffy gazes out at the sunset, her mind screams at her that she should 'feel' something. Something inside her should find beauty in the sight. Yet still, she continued to stare blankly at the view. Just seeing it for what it was. The sun setting as it does at around this time, every single day. Nothing special about it.

It was Thanksgiving. She didn't even have the ability to emote laughter at the thought. She was apathetic. Not caring at all about the part of Thanksgiving that meant to – give thanks. What was she supposed to be thankful for? What was there to be grateful about? If she wanted to be bitter, she would demand a well-deserved thank you from the world. But she wouldn't engage in such thoughts. Just the idea of feeling something, it was almost as if something was blocking it and not allowing the feelings to take possession of her person.

For now, pretending had to suffice. Although, it was starting to get to the stage where she knew that the others weren't convinced. Now it was a matter of time before they knew, she knew that they knew. Urrrgh. Everything is too hard and too confusing. The hardest of which – why had Angel not reached out? Surely their connection would have alerted him that something wasn't right? Although if she was completely honest with herself, she could feel that the connection was waning in strength.

Feeling a strange tweak inside her – something that hadn't been felt in a long time – Buffy is drawn to the window again. Peeking outside, it's the same as it was not even two minutes ago. Nothing there. She turns to leave the room when Willow comes in.

"Hey Buffy" expecting to look up and see the same blank stare, she is surprised to see a hint of something behind those eyes. Dare she thought it out loud, but was that a, a spark? Seeing Buffy turn to the window, Willow continues "Is there something out there?".

Distracted, Buffy returns Willow's gaze with a distant one of her own "Hmm? Oh. No. I'm sorry". But if she were honest with herself and Willow, she could admit that there was a feeling, something was different in the last five minutes – something different to how it has been since...since that day. With a skip of her heartbeat, she almost allows her mind and heart to wander. Willow is talking about something Thanksgiving related and inside, all she can think of is this feeling. What? Wait. Feeling? Is that what this is? The moment seems to ignite her dying soul, like CPR to the heart.

Seizing the moment and this experience, Buffy blurts out so fast, Willow would have missed it, had it not been loud enough "You know what? I should have my own thanksgiving. I can cook the meal, just like my mom does, have all you guys over. It'll be great." Putting her hand over her mouth, she stares at Willow, in disbelief. Looking straight back at her, Willow cannot hide her own shock at the offer. Despite her feelings towards Thanksgiving, she was not going to say no to Buffy reaching out like this. Not trusting words right now, she manages to simply smile and nod her head in agreement. Noticing Buffy's eye's darting wildly around the room, as if she were looking for a place to hide, Willow couldn't contain herself any longer.

Willow draws the courage to rest a hand on Buffy's arm. "Yes, Buffy that would be great – we'd love to spend Thanksgiving with you" sensing some hesitation on Buffy's part, Willow continues "we'll go shopping for everything tomorrow. It's going to be the best Thanksgiving" and with that, almost dances out of the room leaving Buffy flummoxed. What just happened? Where did that come from and what does this mean – am I getting better? Hanging her head for a moment, almost lost in her thoughts, she goes to the window again. Nothing, nothing but shadows.

The next day, after searching the site of the death of a well-known local professor, Buffy returns to Giles' house. Overwhelmed by the whole Thanksgiving plan, she is confident in her abilities to overcome the big bad du jour, but Thanksgiving? What compelled her to want to make a Thanksgiving dinner? Was this some strange attempt at being normal? Walking into the house, she is greeted warmly – almost too kindly by Giles and Willow. Standing there with shopping bags hanging off her arm, she doesn't quite know where to start.

"Well, umm...I guess this turkey isn't going to baste and roast itself guys?" the smallest of smiles turning up the corner of her lip.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Giles offers his assistance and takes some load off and begins unpacking the shopping bags. "Buffy, so what are the plans for the dinner this evening?" looking at her expectantly, he sees the smallest remnants of Buffy hiding behind the disguise.

"Well Giles, I thought we'd cook some food and then eat the food. How does that sound?" Although she doesn't display much emotion on her features, the tone in her voice says otherwise. Giles can't believe his ears. Buffy making jokes – sarcasm even. As quickly as he recognized the meaning, the moment passed and Buffy returned to her now typical, emotionless guise. Despite his disappointment, he had to hang onto that moment. The most feeling he had seen from her in months. There was hope.

Focusing on the unpacking, Buffy is trying desperately to find the cream. "Giles, tell me you've unpacked the cream?" reaching her hand into yet another bag she searches through its' contents.

"Well no, I don't believe I did see any cream here Buffy. Can we go without?" he continues searching through the last bag in front of him. "No, sorry definitely no cream here" reaching into the refrigerator, Giles continues to unpack the contents of Buffy's shopping trip.

With a blank stare, Buffy sighs. "That's okay Giles. I'll do a quick run to the store. Does anyone else need anything?" she looks at Giles who shakes his head

"No thanks, Buffy"

"Willow, do you need anything at the store?"

Not wanting Buffy to be alone, Willow offers "No Buffy, but I think I would enjoy coming out for a walk with you, if you don't mind me joining?" Getting up from the table, Willow shyly smiles, fearing the rejection she has felt over the last four months. Waiting for Buffy's reply, she idly fiddles with one of her rings.

Not noticing Willow's internal dilemma, and having nothing but apathy anyway, Buffy simply replies, "Sure Willow".

Watching them as they walk to the door, Giles notices Buffy incline her head, as if she were hearing something outside. No, not hearing, but feeling. Sensing his eyes on her she turns and looks at him. Embarrassed at himself, seeing in her eyes, that clearly she felt something - albeit briefly - but clearly it was something personal to her. Averting her once again cold gaze, Giles returned to the job at hand. Not a moment after they walked out, there was a knock at the door.

"Buffy, the door is still open" knock again. "Buffy, do come in, you don't have to knock"

More knocking.

Frustrated, Giles walks to the door and expecting Buffy, looks down only to notice a large body in front of him. Definitely, not Buffy.

"Angel" Giles looks up at the vampire. Shocked to see him at his front door. Looking around, he tries to see if Buffy is still in the vicinity.

"She's not here." He turns his head slightly, averting Giles' eyes. Already the feelings of guilt rushing through him. A pregnant pause. Angel looks back to Giles who appears to be looking at him questioningly – unsure of what he means.

"Buffy, Buffy isn't here – she's some distance away now". It dawns on Giles that Angel has misunderstood the meaning behind his apparent pause. Coughing uncomfortably, Giles steps aside and ushers Angel in.

"Indeed, well, yes please come in Angel". Taking his glasses off his face, he rubs at his head, not understanding why Angel was here. Although he contacted Angel a month ago, he assumed that Angel just didn't want to help – maybe he had moved on from his relationship with Buffy? He had heard, through the channels that Angel was indeed doing some good work in LA and there seemed to be no shortage of demonic activity needing his attention. From the corner of his eye, he watched Angel tentatively look up at the door frame and walk through, the act requiring him to hunch down, both to fit through the door and to appear as harmless as possible. With a brief grin across his face, Giles couldn't help the silent chuckle, thinking that only Angel - with his six foot two inches of broad, muscular stature - could possibly make himself appear the same threat equivalent to a newborn lamb.

"So, Angel tell me, what brings you to Sunnydale" in attempt to maintain distance, Giles walks back into the kitchen, continuing his efforts to put all of the groceries in their place.

Looking around the apartment, Angel couldn't help the memories of Angelus flooding back. Not yet understanding Giles' trust and him offering the invitation into his house once again, he felt nothing short of needing to return the gesture "I've received a message from The Powers That Be. Buffy is in danger, I'm here to help"

Bending down to the bottom of his cupboard, Giles hits his head on the shelf as he abruptly stands up "I'm sure Buffy will be delighted to see you" Turning and looking at Angel, Giles can't believe his ears "Sorry – did you just say 'Powers that Be'?" he rubs his head, both to stem the pain and also to match his curiosity at the rarely spoken phrase.

"Yes, Giles, look – can we talk about that later? I need to know what is going on here? What is happening?" It's clear that Angel doesn't want to talk about personal details right now. Straight down to business. Giles wonders for a moment, has he changed as Buffy has? Maybe not in the same way, but in the very least, a profound way to him.

"Of course Angel, yes. Well, it appears we are dealing with a demon of the Chumash tribe – the original -" Surprised at this interruption, Giles could only wait and listen.

"No, Giles, I can see that we have a demon needing to be taken care of. That's not what I am worried about. What is happening with Buffy? How long has this been happening – why didn't you call me?!" Looking around frantically, the 'newborn lamb' was quickly evolving into a full-grown, fire-breathing dragon. Trying his hardest to maintain his sense of calm and composure and not wanting to lose Giles' newly sown seed of trust, he takes some unneeded breaths. Slowly, he allows his eyes to turn from their predatory yellow, back to their deep and soulful, chocolate brown.

Not wanting to appear alarmed by Angel's anger rising, nor wanting to bear witness to any semblance of Angelus – not here, not here in his house, Giles attempts to calm the vampires rage. Of course Angel would have only come if he was concerned for her well-being. It was obvious that the vampire would put anything before his slayer-love. "Angel, please you must understand that I did try to contact you, I spoke with Cordelia -"

"Cordelia -" Angel hisses in disbelief.

"...yes and I assume you are referring to Buffy not really being herself? We've been researching into this and we cannot find any answers. Maybe you can help? If you can just talk with her - " Sensing Angels confusion at Cordelia not telling him about the current events in Sunnydale, he tries to curb the topic somewhat.

"No Giles, I can't get involved with her now. You can't let her know I am here." Appearing detached on the outside, but for anyone with an understanding of the Buffy/Angel history, it is easy to read the true meaning of his words in the depths of his eyes. Giles finally understanding the truth behind what he says and also finally getting the reasons behind his actions. That being said, it doesn't mean he agrees with these choices and how they affect his charge.

"It's not fair. You know that's what she'd say. You can see her, but she can't see you?" Giles looks back at Angel, challenging him.

"Believe me, I'm not getting the good half of this deal. To be on the outside looking in at what I can't... Well, I'd forgotten how bad it feels." Angel pauses a moment. Knowing that he needs answers, he needs to know the truth. Hanging his head down, he somehow finds a stray thread on his sleeve the most interesting of sights right now. Almost in a whisper, Angel swallows and asks the one question he wants to know, yet dreads the answer to. More than the fiery pits of hell themselves. Smiling at his own self-torture, he looks back at Giles, preparing himself for the worst. "Can...can you tell me. Is she seeing anyone Giles? Is she in love?" Back to the lamb. He almost seems to disappear as if he has managed to be swallowed up by the very earth beneath his feet.

Even to Giles, the one person in modern history who has the most reason to hate the man standing in front of him, the question tugs at the very strings of his heart. Although he isn't prepared to lie to Angel, and can see he needs help too, Giles certainly isn't ready to offer the proverbial olive branch. Instead, he opts for blunt honesty. "Angel, this Thanksgiving dinner is the first time she has shown any interest in her friends and so I highly doubt that she has been even slightly entertaining the idea of dating right now."

"That doesn't make sense. Giles, I can only barely feel her soul. Our" Angel hesitates. Not really knowing how to explain what he and Buffy share. And also, not wanting to share their private lives. Knowing that he needs help, to help Buffy, he sighs "our...connection. It seems she is either breaking it, or something else is. What can this mean?"

"Angel, I'm not entirely sure and I'll have to conduct some further research, but what I believe you are referring to is that Buffy is your soul mate? Is that so? If that is the case, that may provide some place to start looking into this. Up to now, Willow, Xander and I...we've not had a place to look and now...yes. Yes, this could make sense. I must consult my texts." Already, without knowing how the cloth came to meet his lenses again, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, Giles realized he was cleaning his glasses.

As the Watcher began to pace the room, walking to various bookshelves and considering the treasured knowledge each contained, Angel knew it was his cue to leave. Giles had his way of helping, Angel had his own, completely different way. "Giles, thanks. But please, please be quick about this. I fear we don't have much time. Our bond is growing weaker every day."

And with that, the vampire vanished into the night. His absence not even noticed by the man sitting at his kitchen table, already elbow-deep in numerous old texts.

Walking down the street, completely distracted by his thoughts, Angel becomes angry at his carelessness and being able to get so close to Buffy. Ducking around the corner of the alley, he peeks his head around the corner, seeing her barely twenty yards from where he was standing at this very moment. Stealing a glimpse of the golden haired beauty, it was as if he could hear the crescendos of a thousand symphonies, harmonizing as one. Just one vision of Buffy and all other thoughts were pushed from his mind. Taking in her exquisiteness, Angel looks deeper into her face. Even from this distance, from across the road, he could see the absence of life in her eyes. The lack of something, anything, surprises and shocks him the most. What has happened to the Buffy he knew and loved? Why can't he feel her and her essence? This was obviously Buffy, but just a shell of the woman he left that night in June.

It was clear, something had to be done. But what – and how could Angel help? Was it too late?


	4. Chapter 3 - part (b)

**Here is the second part to Chapter 3. Next chapter will be focusing on IWRY, so I might not be able to update as quickly. It may turn into quite a long one.**

**Thanks to those who have reviewed. It's nice to hear that my story resonates with some people out there!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from BtVS or Angel. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

Looking around him, Angel thinks about his exit strategy. Not knowing how to get past Buffy without her noticing him, he is grateful for the distraction coming in the form of what appears to be a friend of Buffy's. Watching as she appeared to be involved in the conversation, Angel quickly strides out of the alley way, stepping in line with a large group of teenagers. Without hesitation, he quickly departs the group, finding himself in a coffee shop – right in front of Willow. Panicking, he does the first thing that comes to mind.

He grabs her and puts his hand over her mouth. Struggling to keep her still, Angel can hear her muffled words. Giving her a gentle nod as if to say 'don't scream', he slowly takes his hand off her mouth.

Before she has the chance to argue and knowing exactly what was going through her mind, Angel works fast to allay any fears "I'm not evil. I'm here to help Buffy". Burrowing her eyes in confusion, this clearly doesn't make sense to the young witch.

Focusing on the 'help' part of Angel's announcement, there is no doubt that Willow is definitely confused. Why did it take him so long to come here? Surely if he cared for Buffy he would have arrived the very night Giles had contacted him?

Landing a stronger than expected slap to Angel's arm, Willow's confusion quickly grows to anger. "What took you so long? Buffy has needed help for weeks now!" crossing her arms in front of her, she looks pointedly up at the vampire in front of her. Watching as he rubs his arm absently, his other hand goes to the back of his neck. Rubbing the spot anxiously, Angel looks down at her. The emotional pain clear in his eyes - a look that portrayed nothing less than a feeling of failure.

"Look, it's a long story Willow. I...I didn't know. But now, I'm here and we need to fix this, Buffy is in danger" he looks around with clear discomfort.

Rolling her eyes at the drama that is Angel and Buffy, Willow can't help but say it like it is "Well yeah, you big dummy. So tell her. Help her." taking a sip of her chai, she nods towards a nearby table. Allowing Angel to take the seat with the quickest exit route and the best view of the door, she settles herself opposite him.

"As much as I would do anything to talk to her again...If she sees me, it'll be worse." he hangs his head. He is screaming at himself on the inside. Why is it so wrong for him to simply talk to the one he loves? To hold her. Touch her. Run his fingers through her soft hair and take in her scent – the one that is innately Buffy's? The other, practical – yet no less stubborn – part of him arguing that only coming back will make things harder on Buffy. He made this choice and he needed to live with it. He could go through a thousand lifetimes knowing he sacrificed his true happiness for hers. That was what true love did, wasn't it? Smiling on the inside, he recalled some advice he was once given – in, what felt like a lifetime ago – '_love makes you do the whacky'. _He was an example of this. Who else would think that, the idea of being truly, deeply in love with someone, meant spending the rest of your life apart? Never seeing them, kissing them. Making love to them.

Sensing his internal struggle and seeing conflicting feelings in his eyes, Willow tries to help, tries to persuade him to think with his heart. "See, I don't get that, all this 'leaving for her own good' garbage. Because that's what it is. You can't just give up because there's obstacles. What kind-"

"Willow" Holding his hand up he interrupts her, not able to cope with her judgement of the situation, Angel knows it isn't that simple. "You know how I feel about her. If there was any way..."

Swirling her the hot drink in her hands, she looks at him and can tell he is in pain. Not wanting to increase the suffering that he is doing a great job of laying it on himself, she acquiesces. "Yeah, I know"

Continuing his quest to justify his decision - not only to Willow, but also himself - Angel can't help it "It's just...every thing's different now" shaking off his personal issues, he tries to appeal to Willow's intelligence instead. He can work with facts and if it can help him to try and be objective, then that's what he would do "Look, I'm here to help Buffy. I don't have a whole lot of time for personal stuff. What do you know?"

It was clear to Willow that leaving Buffy was as equally difficult on Angel, as it had been on Buffy. But it surprised her that he was able to be so business-like, when it was Buffy at stake. Although she was never particularly close with the man, Willow did feel a strange attachment with him, that only she could – having re-cursed him with his soul. But, maybe he had changed? This Angel was not the Angel she knew in previous times. Mulling over his question, Willow realized that she really didn't know anything about Buffy's current situation. She couldn't even get her to have a normal conversation to ask those sorts of questions. I mean, what was she going to say? 'Hey Buffy, you aren't you anymore – what gives?'. Thinking back at the timing of all of these changes in her best friend, all arrows pointed at the night of The Ascension. But it wasn't The Ascension. She knew it was what happened afterwards that was the final straw. Looking across the table, she wasn't sure how to phrase her thoughts. Taking the final sip from her drink, she fiddled nervously with the empty cup.

It didn't take his 250 years of experience watching humanity to sense the fear and discomfort radiating from her. Not understanding what was going through her mind, Angel was desperate to get some answers.

"Willow, tell me, I need to know. Please"

Looking at him speculatively, she would only admit to herself momentarily, that if he were evil, she'd probably be about to die a painful death. But, seeing nothing but a pleading look in his eye, there was no longer a doubt in her mind. This man in front of her was most certainly Angel, and he most certainly had the best of intentions for her best friend. Gulping, Willow starts to explain.

"I don't really know what is wrong Angel, we've been researching day in, day out. What I can tell you though, is that everything we knew about Buffy and who she was, changed the night of The Ascension" hoping that he hadn't jumped to any conclusions that might lead him to believe it was to do with the battle and not him, she forcefully continued "and no. No, it wasn't to do with Faith, the battle, or The Ascension itself. It was what happened at the end" letting that last accusation sink in for a moment. "You left her Angel. Now she is broken and we don't know how to get her back. We need to fix this."

Looking around the coffee shop, he can't help but feel anger toward the people around him, it just wasn't fair. The couple straight ahead – he could practically smell the love radiating from them as they held each other and giggled at some senseless joke. The family in line – a child being tickled, her laughter a cruel reminder of what he will never experience. And finally, without thinking, he allows his gaze to wander to the woman in question, all anger dissipating. She's still talking with her friend, but still now even from this distance, he can see Buffy isn't really 'there'. He is angry, but why? After all those poor souls he tortured during his days as Angelus, it was unjust of him to feel like he deserved his one true happiness. Although the very idea of him being the reason for her current state, he knew it would hurt her even more, to commit himself to her again when, he knew that on the face of it all, that was the one thing he couldn't offer. How could he be with her, but not 'be' with her? To live a life together and not be able to entirely give themselves to each other...the thought was more torture than any his curse could provide. He couldn't count how many times today where he wanted to just scream out in frustration at his curse. He didn't want think how many times he'd wanted to do the same since that one perfect night. Closing his eyes, he allows Willow's words to sink in. How is it possible that he still continues to hurt Buffy? Of all people? Setting his jaw in a show of defiance to the situation, Angel knows that, although they can't be together, he will make it his one and only duty to bring her back. No matter what he needed to do, he would fix this. So deep in his thoughts, Willow pulling at his arm drew his attention back to the now.

"Angel..."

"Angel! Earth to Angel...". Looking over at him, Willow finally sees his eyes quickly open – looking first in the direction of Buffy who is waving good bye to her friend and then he looks at her.

"Okay Willow. This is what I need you to do. I need you to keep an eye on her, watch her and make sure that someone has her back. The way she is now, she may be taking risks" Seeing Buffy _but strangely, not 'feeling' her_ cross the road towards the coffee shop he hurriedly continues "tell me if there are any changes to her behavior at all. I've spoken with Giles and he has some new ideas for research. I'll do what I can from LA. Please Willow. Don't tell her I came here."

Hearing his cadence pick up and sensing the urgency of his words, Willow looks at the direction of where his eyes were focused and sees Buffy entering the coffee shop. "Ahhh sure Angel, how will I -" turning back around to the other side of the table, he's already gone "get in contact". She frowns with annoyance.

"Hey Willow, who are you talking to?" Buffy steps forward and looks around, seeing no-one she recognizes.

Put on the spot, Willow can't help but stutter – not able to come up with a valid response quick enough. Darn her and her inability to lie. Even if it was to her apathetic best friend.

"Aaah...ummm...well you see...the thing is" with wide eyes and a panicked look on her face, Willow looks around desperately.

"Have you been drinking coffee again?" Again, Buffy catches herself making yet another joke today. Not knowing exactly where that came from, she looks around the room, the hair on the back of her neck sticking up slightly. What was going on here? Idly, she's drawn to the seat across from Willow. Clearly seeing an imprint of a body in the faux leather booth, she curiously traces the top of the back rest with her fingers. Looking back at Willow, she waits with a semblance of friendly patience.

Seeing Buffy's actions in front of her, Willow is as equally surprised at the look on Buffy's face as she is with her witty remark. A look that is uniquely a combination of wonder and contentment. Thrown by Buffy's personal exchange with the seat – not even a minute ago being occupied by her lost love – Willow takes the moment to gather her thoughts.

"Yes, oops! Silly me. Bad Willow! Willow plus coffee, equals bad Willow!" Standing up and nodding to the door "we should probably head back to Giles'. A lot to do for this Thanksgiving feast Buffy"

Absently, and without looking away from the vision before her, Buffy quietly responds.

"Sure, yeah, We should go" and slowly, she turns and walks toward the door. Waiting outside, Willow doesn't miss Buffy pausing briefly and turning her head ever so slightly, looks towards the now empty table. Seeing two teenage girls sit down - one on the same spot that was calling for her attention - the moment is gone.

And with that, the best friends head silently back to Giles, each lost in their own thoughts.

Later that night, after defeating the Chumash demon, Buffy is strangely erring on being 'normal'. Well, as normal as expected given the circumstances. Despite the amazing dinner she prepared, she still couldn't quite feel satisfied. She couldn't feel a thing and yet strangely, in the recesses of her mind...she had desperately wanted to. What was going on around her to evoke these thoughts? Something was up, something was different. In another world, she would go straight to Giles. He knew all the answers to everything. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to open up to anyone about the changes she was experiencing. Yep, she was just your regular, normal Buffy. Shaking her head slightly, she turns her attention back to the chit-chat at the table.

Standing up, Giles begins to clear up some of the dishes on the table. "Well, maybe we started a new tradition this year, with everyone here, it was almost like the old times" turning his attention to Buffy, she senses the double meaning behind the phrase 'old times'. She knew what he meant and sure, she could remember the old times too. They were long gone though, lost to her now and things could never be the same.

Across the table, Willow grins, chewing on the remainder of a bread roll. Nodding excitedly at Giles, she is lost in this almost happy moment, with all of her friends around. Without thinking, she blurts out with abandon.

"Yeah, especially with Angel being here and everything" And just like that, before she could stop herself, Willow wanted to simply cease to exist. Her eyes darting straight to Buffy, expecting some kind of serious reaction from the slayer. Well, at least a 'WHAT?!'. When neither happened, it appeared that her faux pas had elicited no type of response. In confusion, Willow looks around the room. All eyes on her – some accusatory, others just simply angry. Looking back at Buffy. Nothing. Maybe she didn't hear her?

In reality, you could have heard a pin drop.

To Buffy, the mention of his name and the fact he had been here, definitely draw a response from her. Another piece of her soul simply packing up and leaving her, that's what it was. How could he be here and yet, not be with her? Did he really not want to see her at all anymore? Closing her eyes, Buffy seeks out the last remnants of her dying soul. The last, little piece left. Strangely, this must be the piece with all of the strength. Before she realizes what has happened, she is standing next to the front door, her fist slammed firmly through the wall.

Breaking the silence – not counting the sound of a smashing fist tearing through bricks – Giles is the first to speak up.

"Buffy, you must understand -" and before he could finish, Buffy could be barely heard between her clenched teeth. No one in the room could neither take in, nor expel a single breath.

"No, you must understand. I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. To. Any. Any. Of. You." And with a mighty heave, Buffy yanks her bleeding fist out of the wall, opens the door and slams it behind her. Breaking the top hinge, the door hangs loosely in it's frame, seemingly holding on for dear life.

Taking their eyes away from the door, everyone turns and looks at Willow.

Seeing their disappointment, Willow settles down low into her seat, trying to hide from their glares.

"I need to call Angel."


	5. Chapter 4 - part (a)

**Slightly shorter chapter as the entire chapter 4 (which covers mostly IWRY) looks to be covering at least 3 separate parts.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or Angel. All characters belong to Jos Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

As if on auto-pilot, Buffy made her way straight back to campus. Taking various short cuts through neighboring yards, mere minutes had passed before she arrived at the dorm room door. Not bothering to unlock it, she decides on brute force instead. Stepping into the room, Buffy looks down at the door handle still firmly gripped by her hand. Looking it over, she simply throws it over her shoulder into the hallway.

Making her way to her wardrobe, she begins to throw various items into a duffel bag. Out of habit, throwing in several vampire slaying paraphernalia including a stake, some holy water and a cross. Something inside her was now really protecting her from what she knew she should feel right now.

Anger? No.

Sadness? No.

Betrayal?...No.

Looking around the room, she makes a final sweep with her eyes, seeing if she had forgotten to include anything in her bag. Seeing the photo of her and Willow on the bedside table, Buffy walks over and inspects it. With what effort she had left, Buffy slams the photo into the wall – the glass shattering around the room with a loud smash.

Upon hearing the commotion, several students wander into the hallway, curious as to the source of the late night interruption. Seeing the broken door and looking at the hardened slayer, the curiosity is immediately replaced with horror. Quickly, the onlookers scatter, returning to the comfort of their own rooms.

Paying no mind to her fellow students, Buffy picks up her bag and returning to auto-pilot, soon finds herself at the bus stop. Purchasing a ticket on the midnight bus to LA, Buffy doesn't know why she needs to confront Angel, but something is pulling her in that direction and it isn't for the reasons that once were.

This last piece of herself deep inside, this last part wasn't furious or enraged.

It just simply wanted to know.

Why? Why had Angel come here? If he left her, why would he come back? And not tell her? Is this some form of cruel torture?

Buffy was strangely compelled to find out the answers. Like it was the last possible thread holding her to this earth, she needed some honesty from the vampire.

And Angel was going to give it to her.

Arriving in LA, it was only 3AM. Looking around her at the empty bus stop, at first, Buffy can't help the fleeting thought that this wasn't such a good idea. Shaking her head, the idea of not coming wasn't an option. With her bag hung limply over her shoulder, she decides to rely on her instincts. Dropping her bag in the dark recesses of a nearby alleyway, Buffy takes out her always reliable stake, twirls it playfully in her battered hand and makes her way towards the not so friendly part of town. Without a seconds hesitation, Buffy allows the slayer inside to take over. This was her comfort zone and this was something she could always rely on until hell froze over – literally.

Six dusted vampires later, Buffy finds her feet taking her to a familiar part of town. The diner she worked in, during her summer in LA when she ran away. Opening the door, she finds herself a booth in a quiet corner – her slayer tendencies kicking in, she takes the seat with the best view to the door. Rubbing her eyes, Buffy is grateful for the waitress's interruption. Offering her some coffee, Buffy can muster little more than a nod. Now sitting in the harsh lights of the diner, she looks down at her hand. The briefest thought of guilt flashing deep down, at the knowledge that Giles will need to fix his wall. Before the thought was finished, she shut it away, not wanting to risk entertaining any offending feelings. Drawing her attention back to her hand, she notices she has broken a finger as well as severely damaging two of her knuckles. Recognizing the all too familiar feeling of her healing powers already, she doesn't bother thinking further about needing to help the process along at all. Hearing the door open, Buffy looks up – checking the parameters. Not sensing any danger emanating from the construction worker, she allows herself to be distracted by the strong smelling liquid in front of her. Not the best coffee she's had, but strangely it offers a sense of comfort. Picking up three sugar sachets, she tears them open and pours the contents into her mug.

Sure Buffy, sugar AND coffee is really going to help this situation. Wanting to avoid thinking about the inevitable meeting with Angel, Buffy decides instead to simply stare out the window. Letting her mind relax, she allows herself to wipe her mind of any worries and her heart of any concern.

A quick glance at her watch told her she had little over an hour until sunrise. Not that she needed to check it, the slayer could have told any random passer-by how long it would be until the sun started to make its' daily ascent. With that in mind, she had a little time until she knew she could be sure Angel was at the apartment. Sighing both in frustration and bone aching exhaustion, she leans her head wearily on the window, she finds herself drifting off to sleep.

Making his way back into the apartment, Angel could smell the oncoming sunrise. Thinking back on the nights' events, he was genuinely surprised at how quiet things were on the demon front. Particularly in the more seedy parts of the city, he was always guaranteed at least one or two vamps to take out his frustrations. But alas, of all nights, tonight he was given no such reprise. Placing his still glistening sword back in the weapons cabinet, he makes his way to his office and takes a seat in the now familiar desk chair.

When had his life become this way? Although he could justify why he was seeking forgiveness for all of his past wrongs, could he be certain he was going the right way about things? Angel knew he was doing that thing that everyone around him seemed to hate so much, but he could draw comfort from his self-effacing thoughts. Brooding was one of his trademarks and he wasn't about to quit now. Especially not after last night.

Seeing Buffy – and the way she was – was torture for him. It ripped him to his very core. Something that even his century in hell couldn't do. Although he went through unspeakable physical suffering and persecution, hell could not have hoped to conjure this new revelation. What was happening to Buffy was no less an apocalypse of her soul and for Angel – a vampire who had lived for literally centuries – he realized just how hopeless he was. With nothing to fight and nothing tangible to avenge, what was he to do? Closing his eyes, Angel rubs his hands roughly through his head, trying to calm the screaming inside. How could he possibly responsible for this? Although he didn't doubt Willow, or her recollection of the past 5 months with Buffy...he just couldn't understand how. Surely Buffy understood the reasons behind why he had to leave? Didn't she?

Thinking back on that night in the sewers and seeing the look in her eyes that was undeniably her heart smashing into a million pieces, he knew the feeling, his did the same. Although it didn't beat, his heart still very much existed and at that point - it was the only time he'd recalled since having his soul restored by the gypsies – he had staunchly wished he didn't have a heart. It pained him too and he felt as if he was ripping himself in two. One part wanting to stay. Stay forever and eternally by her side and be selfish to deny her of all the wonderful things life could offer her, that he inevitably could not. The second part, trying to be strong and making the decision that neither his other half, nor Buffy could make.

Releasing a makeshift sigh, he looks toward the clock. He'd soon have to face Doyle and Cordelia and to be honest, he really wasn't up for it. Angel knew that they (and by they, he meant Cordelia) would be determined to discuss his three day hiatus in Sunnydale. Getting the third degree wasn't on the top of his list of wants right now – he was being hard enough on himself as it was. Apart from that, he really didn't think it was his place to explain what was really going on with Buffy. It felt too private. And with that thought, the decision was made to not discuss that particular turn of events. This gave credence to his next thought – maybe the Powers that Be were behind this? Surely it was no coincidence that Doyle got the vision to head to Sunnydale, right at the time when things seem to be looking their worst for Buffy? His next conclusion was logical, but drew out a loud, demonic growl. Opening his yellow anger-laden eyes, Angel felt shocked. Did Doyle know, or see more than he had shared with Angel? Without realizing, he looked down at the pencil grasped firmly in his hand – so tightly, he wondered at the droplets of blood coming from his palm.

Although that thought only added to his deep sense of anger right now, he knew it wasn't going to help regardless. He couldn't blame anyone for what was happening to Buffy, the only thing he could focus on was fixing this and he had to figure it out and soon. Looking over to his phone, willing it to ring and bring some brilliant news from the young Witch and Buffy's watcher, he reveled in the daydream. Holding onto what little hope was left inside him, he calmly placed the pencil back down on the desk and watched curiously as it rolled off, of its' own accord. Desperate for a distraction – brief as it may be – he focused his mind on his desk. Looking for something that would help to level it, he opened his draw and noticed a long-forgotten stake. Juggling it in his hand and about to bend down to complete the task, his musings were abruptly interrupted.

"Don't do it, Angel!" Bursting through the door, Cordelia looks wildly at Angel, attempting to appeal to his common-sense.

Nodding in agreement, Doyle looks him straight in the eye "Listen to me, man, it's not worth it."

For a moment, Angel is seriously confused by their concern for him fixing the desk. Not quite coming to a conclusion of his own, he looks at them questioningly, his brows displaying his confusion "It's not?"

Grateful for his momentary hesitation and misinterpreting his confusion for that of remorse Cordelia attempts to rationalize "No! You can't let her get to you like this. You'll meet someone else. Just give it some time."

Reaching a hand out and with a nod towards the stake, Doyle offers "Why don't you let me have that?"

"Because I need it to level my desk." Bending down, Angel places the stake firmly under one of the table's legs. The ridiculousness of the situation not withstanding, he can't believe he has to explain apparently innocent intentions "The floor is uneven."

Standing back up to his full height, he notices Cordelia clutching at her chest and letting out a loud breath. Finally taking in her earlier desperation (and ignoring the absurd impossibility of there ever being 'someone else') he realizes what they were thinking. If only they knew the full story of the last three days. With Buffy the way she was, there was no way he would ever be able to give himself that one thing he used to think would offer him peace.

Death.

"You two thought.."

Not wanting to appear the desperado, Cordelia quickly interrupted."Doyle did. You know how he jumps to conclusions, - 'cause you saw Buffy."

And just like that, he was right. It took them all of a whole minute to bring up the topic of Buffy. Still not feeling like discussing it, he knew it wasn't fair on them. In their own strange way, Angel knew that they cared for him. Trying hard to hold a neutral look on his face, he tries to explain "It wasn't a social call. I was there to protect her." _And look how much that helped..._ "I stayed out of sight. She didn't even know I was there."

Surprised at this, Cordelia couldn't help but wonder out loud "Really?" seeing Angel's confident nod, she continued "So you avoided her?"

Not appreciating the tone the conversation was taking, and certainly not wanting to admit to them or himself that he was doing anything remotely akin to 'avoiding' Buffy, Angel wanted to end this particular discussion right at that very moment. Taking in an unneeded, yet equally deep breath, "Look, Buffy is always going to be a part of me, and that's never going to change. But she's human and I'm - not" looking down at the floor, he almost bursts into laughter at the understatement "And that's also never going to change. We said our good-byes, no need to stir any of this up again." Reminded of the fact that Cordelia failed to alert him about Giles' call some weeks ago, he attempts to shift the focus on her. "And Cordelia, I need to talk to you about the importance of passing on messages. Particularly those which come from the hell mouth".

Gulping nervously, Cordelia knew exactly what he was referring to. But meeting his stubbornness with her own, she taunts him"You don't want to 'stir', but if my ex came to town and was all stalking me in the shadows and then left and then didn't even say 'hello' I'd be.."

Shocked and surprised at the fourth, heartbreakingly familiar voice in the room, Angel looks up at it's owner "A little upset."

Buffy.

His mouth drops open in shock. Their eyes locking together, his heart nearly coming into his mouth. Not unhappy by her unexpected visit, he is however astonished that she was able to get so close without feeling her first.

Hazel eyes meeting chocolate brown with equal strength, yet still with no feelings betraying her, Buffy accuses "Wouldn't you?"

**I'll be away for the next couple of days, but will attempt to update again on Sunday evening.**

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the update.**


	6. Chapter 4 - part (b)

**Chapter 4 - part (b)**

**Sorry for the delay, I was out-of-state. Though, this is the longest chapter I have written yet.  
**

**This chapter quotes the dialogue between Buffy and Angel in the beginning of IWRY. From her, I will be straying completely off canon.**

Although the silence didn't last long, the tension in the room was undeniable. The kind of palpable tension that feels like the air was sucked out of the room. Not being able to take it any more, Cordelia is the first to break the barrier. Pointing out the obvious, she stumbles "Buffy! Buffy's here - in town. What brings you to..."

More uncomfortable feelings. Clearly that is the case – Buffy is standing right here. Acknowledging the experience and strangely being able to feel the moment, Buffy wonders for a moment – why did she come? Not wanting to look like she came out of vengeance, Buffy needed a quick cover-up. The thought of panicking and running out the door started to become a very real option, but keeping her cool, Buffy replied "I came to see my father" with a look to Angel's direction, to see if he could see through the lies, well, who was she kidding? It was clear she was lying. It was clearly not a coincidence that Buffy just so happened to need to visit her father, a day after Angel was stalking (that is what he was doing, right?) her in Sunnydale. Buffy held Angels eyes with hers and as an afterthought, added "Thought I'd stop by."

Sensing the discomfort that even she was usually oblivious to, Cordelia couldn't help but force a faked laugh"What a surprise!"

Willow had told Buffy some time ago about Cordelia working for Angel and seeing her here was another harsh reminder of how much things had changed since that day Angel walked out of her life. For the first time in months, the feelings of hurt, anguish and most of all anger, were surfacing. Relishing in these feelings inside, it occurred to Buffy that, despite her dislike of the vapid brunette, she wasn't here to pick fights or be rude. There were more important issues at hand which she needed to reserve her energy for. Given the situation, Buffy forced the most polite tone she could. "Cordelia how are you?"

For the first time since she could remember, Cordelia felt at a loss for words. Social etiquette was not her forte at the best of times and this, this was just horrible. She only wished that she could click her fingers and be gone – away, far, far away from this place. Angel was busted. And now, now she knew she would have to pick up the pieces that was the Buffy/Angel mess. Still bumbling on the outside, she could only answer with a simple "Good. I'm good. You?" As soon as she asked the question, she couldn't help but wince on the inside. That was only opening the very can of worms she wanted to avoid like Macy's during a fifty percent off sale.

Inside, Buffy was actually shocked at the question. She realised that no-one had really asked her how she was in a long time. She knew that she couldn't lie, yet she couldn't help but allow for some level of ambiguity. Directing her gaze straight back at Angel, a part of her was desperate for him to hear the hidden message and come to her rescue. "I've been better."

Although Cordelia knew she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, she did know when it was her cue to exit. And pronto. Turning to Doyle, the Irishman looked genuinely perplexed. Ugh. It was customary to introduce strangers, right? The social faux-pas didn't seem like such a big deal. She was trying to make her escape. Looking back at Buffy, Cordelia nodded briefly. "Uh-huh. Well, this is Doyle. And he gets visions of people in trouble." Idiot. At that moment, there were no words to describe how small she felt.

Doyle couldn't believe he was face to face with a Slayer. But, not just any Slayer. THE Slayer. In his minds' eye, he had certainly imagined her 'differently', but now he stood in the room with her, he could no longer picture her any other way. Having only seen her in visions, it was an entirely different experience face to face. Although he was only just meeting her, he could sense the power radiating from her, but strangely, he could feel no sense of the woman behind the Slayer disguise. Doyle wasn't well-versed in the Slayer history, but he did know that their training techniques were nothing short of unusual. Maybe through training, the Watcher's Council is able to erase all sense of self and individualism? But, most of all, mostly what he could feel in the room was pain, loss, emptiness, but also a hint of love and hope. Mainly coming from Angel. What was going on here? Using his Irish charm to to disarm the animosity and awkward feelings in the room, Doyle drew his attention to the small blonde in the room. "Nice to make your.."

Cordelia couldn't stand it any longer. Putting aside all social customs, she decided to go for the abrupt, straight to the point and downright rude option. "And this is us leaving you two alone."

Doyle was genuinely surprised at the strong grip Cordelia held on his arm as she dragged him out of the room.

Alone. Finally the two were alone. Not wanting to allow Angel an escape route, she made her way to the door and closed it behind Cordelia and Doyle. The message not lost on Angel, who could do nothing but stand there looking completely dumbfounded. Strangely, given the events of the last twenty-four hours, it was Angel who broke the silence.

"Well, umm, it's good to..." _See you? Have you stand in front of me in all your beauty? Simply bask in your presence? _Angel was struggling with his thoughts and feelings and he was still confused about why she had got so close to him without his senses picking it up. "Can I get you anything?" He hated himself. He hated that despite his feelings screaming out at him to say how he really felt, he didn't have the courage. He couldn't be selfish. This was for her.

And just like that, it was as if all the feelings that were denied her over the last few months were finally brought to the surface, all blending together to form only one. Anger. She was holding this feeling and it gave her a sense of being and power that she was missing for sometime. It was as if the fire was burning inside again. With courage that had been up until recently lost, she stared right into his eyes and demanded "How about - an explanation? Who do you think you are coming to my town and following me around behind my back?" Although they were the roots of what she really wanted to know, it didn't even scratch the surface. Despite her feelings now, she wasn't ready to bare all to him and be vulnerable yet again.

The energy in the room caught fire. No, no it wasn't in the room, it was in Buffy and he looked her straight in the eye. There it was. What was it about him that made her feel this way? Why was he always hurting her? A moments self flagellation allowed, he basked in the fact that for the first time in a long time, he could _feel _her. He would bare the brunt of her anger for a thousand lifetimes if it meant that she was living and being who she was born to become. Momentarily, he could not help but feel happy. She seemed herself and he needed her to hold onto this. Not showing any signs of the inner workings of his mind, Angel simply and yet, truthfully offered "I'm sorry."

It was like the floodgates had been opened. Floodgates of hell and she was almost happy that finally she was drowing in this feeling of anger. Allowing it to course through her, she leveraged the experience and continued to dig deeper. "What is this? Some new torment you cooked up just for me?"

Somewhat pleased that his tactic had worked, he couldn't help but feel for the woman in front of him. Thinking back on the memories of his time in hell, he remembered various forms of torture and he realised that, if he were in Buffy's place, sure, he would call it torment. The very thought of Buffy being around him, but not being able to see her seemed for that moment, one of the most cruel forms of torture his mind could conjure. He would go through an eternity of hell dimensions to not feel that pain. But he knew and could say honestly, his actions weren't because he wanted to torment her. "No, I don't want to torment.."

Needing answers, something to make sense out of his reasoning, Buffy was insistent "What is it? You can see me, but I can't see you? What are we playing here?"

"We're not. I'm not playing anything. I wrestled with this decision..."

"Which you made without me." He always did that. Again, making decisions about Buffy, behind her back. Her hands formed fists at her sides. It was a blow to her trust. Did he not trust her, not believe her when she had shared her deepest feelings and desires? That when she looked into the future, all she saw was him? Despite giving her so much of herself as a woman, did he still only see her as the fifteen year old girl at Hemery High? The night of her seventeenth birthday indicated otherwise.

Now it was Angel's turn to allow himself to feel angry. No matter his intentions, or how hard he tried, it seemed no matter what he did, he would always hurt her. Why did she have to see it that way? "I tried to do what I thought was right. It's complicated how this all happened, Buffy, you know? It's kind of a long story." Hoping to placate her, Angel knew it wouldn't help the greater cause anyway. No matter the way he tried to explain himself or his decisions, Buffy seemed to feel he was doing everything to purposefully break her heart. He wasn't, was he?

He was always trying to be cryptic guy, trying to make things more difficult than they were "You're new sidekick had a vision, I was in it, you came to Sunnydale?"

Of course Buffy could simplify things to the point of making him feel stupid. Although he knew she wasn't trying to belittle him on purpose, he had to admit that her summary wasn't too far from the truth. "Okay, maybe not that long."

Unfortunately that left him open for interpretation around the purpose of his visit. He went because of Doyle's vision, but he stayed longer due to his shock at her being only a shell of her former self. He wasn't about to share that particular insight now, not when she was at least on speaking terms with him, he didn't want to sound like he was accusing her of anything.

"You didn't feel that I was important enough to even tell me that you were there." It was an accusation, and a deserved one at that. Buffy couldn't help but be honest with Angel and how him being around made her feel.

This conversation wasn't going anywhere and it was obvious that, no matter how hard he tried, Angel was only going to dig himself a hole. "I'm trying to explain. It's because I felt that you're important that I didn't tell you." And it was the truth.

Trying hard to make him see her the way that she wanted him to see her. Even Buffy knew that she wasn't the same girl he met when he first came into her life. Hell, she wasn't even the same girl as she was six months earlier. "I'm a big girl now, Angel. I'm not in High School any more. A lot has happened in my life since you left." What an understatement. How could she tell him exactly what was going on with her? When her heart broke because he clearly couldn't feel what was happening to her now.

"I know. I respect that." He did know and he did respect it. It was true and she had grown. Although that didn't mean things had changed for the better.

She was trying to protect herself. Protect from the memories and the way they inevitably made her feel "And I don't need you skulking around, trying to protect me" Neither of them could look the other in the eye. Why were things so hard for them? Both looking away, Buffy adds "Unless, of course, I'm in some gigantic fight to the death, which - I was last night. That was you, helping me, wasn't it?" Although now she wanted to cease existing, a small remaining part of her wasn't ready to say good-bye to the world just yet.

"I was in the neighborhood - skulking." That didn't even scratch the surface, but again, that was all he could offer her now.

He knew he needed to fix this, and hopefully try to salvage something remnant of a friendship...no, even an acquaintance. "I'm sorry if I handled this wrong. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?" He didn't rightly know. He just wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be happy.

She was no longer angry. The anger had now left and she could already tell how this conversation would end. And it wasn't going to be good for her. All that was left was one piece of honesty. One last time to be emotionally honest with the man in front of her. "I don't know. I just know that when you're around, whether I see you or not, - I feel you - inside - and it throws me."

He looked at her and saw the sincerity in her eyes. Did she want him to save her? What was that behind the true meanings of her words? "Throws me, too."

Just like that, the moment was lost.

Confusion. Angel looks around the room and back to Buffy and realises that it was done. Time was taken back and although he remembers the day, in reality, it never happened. Desperately, he tries to pull himself together, to avoid the same mistakes again. Remembering back to yesterday...today...where he put that stake. The thought crosses his mind to just finish himself right here. This was it. This was how he was to be repaid for his years as Angelus. Raping, torturing, maiming and killing thousands of people. He would live with knowing what they could have had together, for the rest of his undying life. Severely wanting to just reach out, run his hand across her golden skin and pull her into a spine-tingling embrace and just kiss her until her lips turned to that rosy pink that only hers did.

Shaking his head slightly, he looks back into her eyes. Did she remember? Would those memories come back to her and haunt her like they were haunting him this very moment?

No. They aren't the same eyes that were just looking up at him, desperately wanting another minute and promising that she would not forget. These were the eyes of the Buffy that needed fixing. He needed to keep away from her and stop hurting her so she could find her fire again, for good. For real. What they had wasn't real. She deserved more than the dark, and more than the evil that seemed to surround his world.

She just had to be strong and just let the dream go. She was going to have to say good-bye to any dreams of a future filled with happiness "So let's just stick to the plan. We keep our distance until a lot of time has passed. Given enough time we should be able to..."

Angel knew how this part went. Again, he couldn't help but remember. _I'll never forget, I'll never forget..._"Forget?"

"Yeah." This was ending. It was really ending. She couldn't make him feel something for her that he didn't. She couldn't force it on him. "So, I'm gonna go - start forgetting." And she was. She really was going to do that.

Mirroring the commotion inside her, a Mohra demon comes crashing through the window behind Angel with a scream. This really was her life. She couldn't even have a moment to herself to allow the reality to set in.

Angel was simply grateful he knew exactly what to do and to not have to put Buffy in any danger. Thinking quickly, Angel turns, grabbing the clock from his desk and coolly smashes the Mohra's jewel with it.

In a flash of light, The Mohra demon is gone. Leaving the two alone once again, Angel captured in his reverie and Buffy stunned by the speed and efficiency of Angel dealing with the demon.

Seeing the Mohra take the swift blow to the head, she could have sworn it was the same experience for her, but to the heart. "That was unreal. How did you know how to kill it?"

Like nothing else ever before, he just wanted to tell her. He wanted to take what he deserved. What they deserved. He wanted them to be together. But it wasn't right. With a resigned sigh, Angel kept straight to the facts – with a slight embellishment to protect his love from the truth. "It's a Mohra demon. I - I had a lot of time to catch up on my reading."

And with that, she had to give up. She had to simply let go and be the one to walk away from him this time. It was still hard. Even though she wasn't completely herself, for some reason, the smallest part inside her, still wanted to hold onto the what ifs and the could-have-hads. But that wasn't the story of her life. She knew then that she was destined to be alone and surviving however many years left of her life as the Slayer – loneliness. "Yeah. Okay. So I guess we've covered it, right?" She looked to Angel. The last chance. This was it. The answer he gave her would be the last brick to seal her fate.

With the determination of a man who only wanted the best for the one woman he would always love, he had to believe in the old saying 'if you love something, let it go'. He wasn't just letting go, he was making her leave. "I guess we did."

The door closed. No, it slammed shut, right in her face. He just wasn't giving her any hope. Nothing. What did she expect? Well, she prepared to close this off for now"And that's all there really is to say." She felt like she couldn't breathe. Looking around the room, she noticed many minute details. The coffee mug stain to the right side of the desk. The way the sun was falling inside the now shattered window. The books opened up on the desk to various demons and bad guys. The cut and fit of Angel's shirt and how he always looked like he had a fresh haircut. Taking all of those images, she mentally crunched them up in her fisted hands and threw them away.

Taking a deep breath and gathering all the willpower in him again, to not say anything more, Angel looks down on the smashed clock. It stopped at 9:02. Memories of Buffy, a happy smiling and full of life Buffy play in his mind.

Turning back to the woman in question, and where she was just standing, he finds she is already leaving the outer office.

"Yeah. That's it." He says to himself, alone in his office. Alone with his thoughts and memories of what wasn't. What else could he say? It was clear to Angel that all the signs pointed to them not being able to be together. Never again would they be able to experience that day that never was. Although maybe their relationship and connection was irreparable, based on the reaction and flame in her eyes today, there was a sliver of hope for Buffy, wasn't there? He would do what he could to stay away from her from now. Although it pained him to do it, he would for her own sake.

Buffy walked out of the office. Not daring herself to look back and be reminded yet again, of what she had lost. Maybe he was right. It would be better to just simply forget. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the mere thought. Could she forget a time when she felt whole, when life was worth living and not simply existing? Forgetting how she used to be and how having Angel by her side gave her a reason to be, to feel...to love? She'd spent not even ten minutes with him and already she felt so confused and although it was nice to feel something, she knew that the next way to deal was to re-visit her plans for closing all the memories and feelings away. Close them away, lock them and throw away the proverbial key.

Why did he insist on trying to be the wise old soul and always do everything for everyone else? Buffy couldn't understand why he was always so selfless. This small part deep inside was screaming at her _you are meant to be together, you are made for each other_ and yet he rejected her. He pushed her away yet again. Knowing that it was her last-ditch attempt to try to get some sense from him – an admission of his feelings at the very least. As expected though, she knew he refused to listen to his heart and was only paying mind to his brain.

She could completely understand and how he was processing this and how he came to this decision about their future together – or more accurately – lack thereof. What she couldn't agree to was why? She had told him time and time again, the sex didn't matter she wholeheartedly believed she could go without. What mattered was what her heart needed and more importantly what her soul yearned for. He was tearing her apart and from the result of that conversation, he didn't even care.

Making her way back to the bus stop, there was no other option. She would just go back to Sunnydale and back to her life as a Slayer. The world needed the Slayer, but today, she couldn't help but see that the world didn't need Buffy Summers.

**I hope you liked this one and how I interpreted the scene, to fit with the theme of this story. **

**I'm actually looking forward to the next few chapters. I've written around three pages of notes on the story line to this and so far I have only covered the first four points of my storyline. For anyone enjoying this story and for what it is worth, it looks to be turning into a long one. Not too long that it gets drawn out though.**

**Thanks to anyone who has taken the time to review or favorite. I'm thoroughly enjoying the feeling of my imagination running wild and like I've said, it's great to hear that this resonates with others out there. **

**I should be able to upload a new chapter within the next couple of days. **


	7. Chapter 4 - part (c)

**Sorry again for another delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a long one and it was challenging to complete. **

**Warning: this chapter (or, the last part rather) is meant for mature audiences only. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of BtVS or Angel. All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.**

**Words in italics depict a flashback or memory.**

**Happy reading.**

**Chapter 4 - part (c)**

Buffy was something akin to a robot. She knew it, Giles knew it, Willow & Xander, everyone.

They just didn't speak about it. Whether due to the fact they didn't want to acknowledge the way she was perpetually emotionless, or because they didn't want to make things worse, was anyone's guess. But, Buffy had to admit that on the whole they seemed to leave her alone. Even her mother, Joyce, was keeping her distance.

She had turned over a new leaf and thrown her past behind her. The only remnant of what could have been, was the connection to her being the Slayer. For that, there was nothing she could do to change it. She understood her calling and she performed it perfectly. Never once complaining or making an issue of what was needed of her. Although Giles really did seem to miss having the 'old Buffy' (as she had begun to affectionately refer to it), he was not at all disappointed in the way she applied herself to her duties.

This was the result of a slow but sure change in the Slayer and it was as if some days, she could physically feel changes happening inside her that she hadn't felt before. Shrugging it off as just the last remnants of her soul dying a slow and painful death, it was somewhat comforting to feel it as well. She was now looking forward to having absolutely no shred left of her emotions, feelings and essence. To not have to be concerned with those and worried about any unexpected reactions in the future.

Buffy had come to terms with her future. She had embraced it even and was prepared for whatever was to come in the future.

The Slayer in her was ready to take on anything.

Buffy, well, Buffy was no longer to be found. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

It had been a little over nine weeks since Buffy's visit to Los Angeles and everyday she was developing a thicker and thicker shell to protect her from all typical human thoughts and emotions. She knew it was due to the fact that she now had a 'nothing to lose' attitude. The truth was, she really didn't have anything to lose. In an earlier life, everything she had wanted, was taken from her.

Laying in her bed, she could see the sun shining through the campus room window. Gazing over at Willow's side of the room, she recognized the tell-tale sign of a bed that had not been occupied last night. The sheets still tucked tightly into a nicely made bed. Buffy had noticed the relationship between Willow and Tara had developed over the last few weeks and although she didn't feel anything about it, she still didn't have any problems with it. She could only muster a want for Willow and Tara to find the same contentedness that she had once wanted (and had) for herself.

Feeling the all too familiar pang in her torso, this one was stronger than the last several days. Sitting upright in her bed, she forced a hand over her mouth – she was sick. Looking over to the dust bin by her bed, she quickly made some room inside and allowed the insides of her stomach to not so delicately fill the liner. Wiping her hand across her head, she didn't notice any signs of a fever or a cold. Thinking back through the previous night, maybe it had been the early morning cold pizza she ate from the refrigerator. Slaying always made her hungry, so the eventual snacking on left overs was no longer a surprise to her. Cold pizza was always an easy option during early morning hunger pangs after a hard night out in the cemeteries. Before she could move to the bathroom, another wave of nausea drew her attention back to the dust bin once again.

Holding it in her hand as the emergency option, she quickly made her way to the bathroom.

It wasn't until late morning that she finally surfaced from the bathroom. Still able to make the two remaining classes of the day and finally feeling better than this morning, she made her way out the door, grateful to leave behind the illness of the morning.

* * *

Walking to Giles' house in preparation for yet another night of patrol, Buffy was truly exhausted. She walked bleary-eyed into the apartment, drawing a concerned look from her Watcher.

"Buffy, are you feeling alright?" He placed his book back on the shelf and made his way to the table. Noticing how Buffy slumped, standing idly in the doorway, Giles offered "Can I get you something? Tea, maybe?"

"Ugh, no thanks Giles. I don't want anything. Something isn't right, I've been sick for days"

"Unfortunately you don't look so well. Please, I will call Willow and Xander and we'll complete the patrol this evening. Can I ask that you see a doctor tomorrow?" Seeing the immediate panic in her eyes, he had to work with her Slayer side. "You know, if you are too sick, you won't be able to effectively slay, Buffy. Please, do see a doctor tomorrow."

Grumbling, Buffy turned and walked out the door. Noticing the now too familiar feeling of nausea hitting her, she only just made her way to the garden. Waiting until the feeling passed, she made her way back to the campus. Already dreading tomorrow.

She really hated hospitals and anything closely related.

* * *

Coming awake, Buffy lay incredibly still. Not experiencing any nausea or pain in her abdomen, there was a brief moment of gratitude. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, she found herself running to the bathroom yet again.

Flushing the toilet, Buffy took a long, calming hot shower and dressed. Choosing some regular boot cut dark jeans and a green sweater, she pulled her hair from her face, picked up her bag and made her way to the doctor's office. It went without saying how badly she didn't want to go to the clinic, but she had to get back to slaying and there was only one way around it. She knew what was happening anyway – surely this was nothing but a run-of-the-mill flu. Normally, just taking several days of rest would do the trick, but Giles was right. If she couldn't get out there and slay, then she knew herself, she wouldn't have a purpose. Now, Buffy was desperate for that responsibility – it was the only saving grace, keeping her alive and at the very least, sane.

* * *

Walking into the clinic, Buffy was almost overwhelmed by the smell of hospital. It had its' own distinct aroma – disinfectant mixed with sickness. It was almost enough to make her turn and walk out the door. If it wasn't for the nauseating sensation that hit her at that very moment. Buffy just wanted to go in, get her antibiotics prescription and go straight home where she could camp by the toilet bowl in peace. Was that so hard? Hesitantly, Buffy took a seat by the door – her eyes flittering between it, and the door into the doctors' office. Why did hospitals and doctors make her feel like this?!

Reaching forward, she picks up the current copy of some nameless tabloid magazine. Not even spending enough time to read who's wearing what, cheating on who and who recently lost twenty pounds, she flicks idly through the shiny pages. Allowing her train of thought to wander completely into nothingness, Buffy closes her sees and lets herself relax for a moment's peace. Harshly, she finds herself being brought back to reality. Adjusting her eyes to the artificial lights of the clinic, she looks over to the receptions. She doesn't know just how long she was trying to get her attention, but Buffy could see she was somewhat annoyed.

"Miss Summers, when you are ready?"

Sheepishly, she sat up. Her attention now on the receptionist. "Uuuh, yeah. Sorry. I'll uhhh, just go in shall I?" Picking up her purse, Buffy walks slowly, yet with deliberate steps to the door. Acknowledging the receptionist on her way, although she appeared focused back on her work anyway.

There was a sense of foreboding as she took hold of the plain, brushed steel door handle. She didn't want to cross the doors threshold. Shaking her head in annoyance, Buffy knew she was being stupid. With that last thought, she gripped the cold door handle, turned it and stepped inside with one smooth motion.

"Good morning...Miss Summers, yes?" Buffy was surprised. Looking at the direction of the voice, the owner a petite young woman, seated behind the large mahogany desk. The woman appeared to be absorbed in some kind of file or record, Buffy assumed was hers. What was disturbing was the unfamiliarity of this doctor. Buffy would typically see Dr. White – an aging man with a grey, receding hairline, a pointed nose and thin rimmed circular glasses.

"You can call me Buffy..." she was already feeling serious nerves "where is Dr. White? I usually see Dr. White" It was only then, looking around the room that Buffy noticed the usual plaques and qualifications no longer adorning the walls. Staring back to the desk, where were the photo's of Dr. White's family and their retriever, Chuck? Surely this woman in front of her was much too young to be a doctor?

Suddenly the idea of dealing with several days off from slaying was a better idea? Buffy turned back towards the door.

"Sure, Buffy it is then" the doctor caught her attention, her friendly smile somewhat disarming. "You must have been pretty healthy lately then, Dr. White retired seven months ago, leaving me in charge of the practice" walking slowly from behind the confines of the desk, the Dr. extends out her hand to introduce herself "My name is Dr. Foster. But, you can call me Liz" Liz looked over at the young woman, she was obviously uncomfortable. She watched Buffy as her eyes dashed about the room. Grasping at her stomach, a look of concern on her delicate features.

Retired? Why hadn't she been told about Dr. White? She was suddenly angry at that receptionist. Buffy was comfortable with Dr. White. She appreciated his approach and he never doubted or questioned her ridiculous allegations to explain her at times, inexplicable injuries. Buffy looked more closely at the Dr. - Liz. She didn't look much older that she was. Maybe twenty five at most. She was small In stature, engulfed by the large desk behind her. Liz was looking straight at Buffy from behind her thick-rimmed glasses and it seemed momentarily, that she had already made a diagnosis. Fine. She would go through the motions and just get this over then, there was no point arguing. Buffy inclined her head slightly and hesitated towards the chair before taking a seat.

Trying to keep the feeling in the room somewhat relaxed, Liz removed her coat and relaxed forward in her chair. Smiling at Buffy, who appeared to have come to terms with the change, Liz asked brightly "So, you haven't been in for some time, so tell me, what can I help you with today Buffy?"

She wasn't sure how to answer as she wasn't sure what was wrong herself. Again, putting a hand gently across her torso, she looked towards the doctor "Well, it's probably nothing. The flu even. I'm not sure, but I've felt really sick and nauseous over the last six weeks. It seems to come and go and some days I feel so tired and it is hard to get out of bed" Buffy almost tripped over the words, she had to just get this done quickly.

Truth be told, it had only been one short year since she became a fully qualified doctor – not that she told her patients that. That being said, it didn't really take a doctor to put two and two together in this scenario. A young attractive woman, college years, sick and nauseous...most probably sexually active. She sighed deeply. Noticing Buffy's eyes dart to hers in confusion, maybe she hadn't come to the same conclusion?

"Okay Buffy, well it might just be the flu as you say, but I think we should do a good check of everything anyway, whilst you are here. Let's make sure that apart from this illness, you are in tip top shape" standing up, Liz walked towards her medical supply cabinet, searching through, she found the small plastic jar with the yellow lid. Handing it to Buffy, she finished "let's do a couple of quick urine tests whilst I give you a check over, shall we? The bathroom is just through that door" pointing to a door to the right side of the wall, she ushered Buffy through.

"Sure, I guess..." Buffy wasn't sure why, but obviously Liz was the doctor so she would know better.

Returning a couple of minutes later, Buffy handed the paper bag containing the jar back to Liz. Taking it from her hands, Liz hurried through the door to the reception. Returning a moment later, Liz assured Buffy "Those tests should not take much longer Buffy. So, let's talk about this sickness a bit more okay? Can you tell me if you've experienced any other symptoms such as fever, sore, itchy throat, any coughing?" as she asked, Liz made her way towards Buffy, gently indicating she was going to prod at her throat and neck with her fingers. She noticed a scar on her neck – had she been bitten by a dog? Trying to make her relax more, Liz decided to try laughter and jokes instead "Nice battle scar Buffy, what about the other guy, hey?" Straight away, she could tell that was a sensitive subject, Buffy pulled her head away and put a protective hand over the mark.

"Uuuh, yeah. You could say that. No, no sore throat or coughing though. Not like a normal cold" she was desperate to change the subject back to the present. She had closed off those memories some time ago.

Clearing her throat, Liz walked towards the bed in the corner. "Buffy, come lay down here for a moment, I'm just going to check you over quickly". Waiting until she was laying on the bed, Liz placed her flat palms down Buffy's abdomen, pressing gently at all the required places "Do you feel any pain or discomfort here?"

Nodding slightly, Buffy answered shyly "No, not really pain. Just a tightness I think"

"Okay well if you could sit back down on the chair over there, that would be great" Liz knew already without the urine test results. Buffy was pregnant. Grateful for the interruption, she turned towards the knock on the door. Taking the results from the receptionist, she looked down towards the confirmation of her suspicions. Buffy was indeed pregnant. She paused, not knowing how to give her the answer.

Seeing the look on Liz's face, Buffy tried to stay calm and together. "Okay Doc, so give it to me. What is the damage?"

Hesitating for a moment, just how should she handle this? Liz moved further into the room, walking towards her desk "Ummm, no Buffy. I'm actually able to give you what might be good news. Buffy, you are pregnant"

"Ok, well just give me the prescript- ah, what?" Buffy was sure her jaw had just hit the floor. Pregnant?!

"What did you just say?" surely she had heard wrong?

Liz looked at her reassuringly "As far as I can see, you are about ten weeks' along"

Nine weeks? It wasn't even possible. This had to be some sort of demony thing. An immaculate conception maybe?"No, no...no, you've got to be wrong. I haven't had sex...I haven't...well, not since the night of my seventeenth birthday"

"Well, it looks that you conceived around Thanksgiving, are you sure?..."

Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving.

Angel.

Her eyes widened in horror, a recognition of the past. The real past.

_Flashes of images...no...memories – Buffy knew this was real. Something was telling her this had actually happened. But how? Recognising Angel's office and the Mohra demon, she is taken to a sewer...feelings of sorrow once again. What was with her, sewers and heartache? The next image would have floored her if she had any sense of consciousness...what? Angel was kissing her in the sun? Holding his head against hers, his lips burning with not just passion, but also a warmth of their own? Sex. Sex with Angel? Holding each other and was that ice-cream? This couldn't be real, it couldn't have happened. _

Liz had seen this many times. Young mothers, alone in this position and no doubt feeling nothing more than confusion. Some not believing that their actions could lead to this event. Some in denial that there was any way it could happen. But Buffy seemed to be an intelligent and strong woman, this reaction somewhat took her by surprise.

"Miss Summers...Buffy" she had to know her options "look, there are many options you can look at here. I mean, if you aren't ready..." she left the suggestion unfinished, allowing the young woman in front of her to fill in the gaps. Looking over at her, Liz's heart constricted. It looked like Buffy's had just been ripped from her chest right in front of her.

Buffy was shaking her head out of the brief flash back, it was like all the pieces clicked together. There was a new pain forming deep down inside her and she knew what was happening. She was pregnant, pregnant with Angel's baby. This was a miracle. What was she going to do? What vampire and Slayer had ever had a baby? Was it even possible? Did she even want to be a mother? Every question conceivable was running circles through her head and none had the answers right now. All but one. She knew she wanted this baby. More than anything. If this flashback was real, she would love this baby even as a single mother. It was conceived with love.

"Nnn...no...no don't take my baby" she could feel something, something was wrong. Shaking her head adamantly at the woman in front of her, Buffy frantically added "I want to keep my baby. No matter what, please, save my baby, promise me" she was holding onto her still-flat torso, gripping herself for dear life. Her conscious was drifting, she could barely keep focus on Liz, but she needed to know. She had to know the baby would be protected.

Liz was watching her reacting and could tell that something was going on right now that she herself couldn't grasp. Reaching out a reassuring hand to Buffy's arm, bowing her head to the side she responded "Buffy, no-one will take your baby, everything is going to be ok, please calm down" she was swaying on the spot, the light gone from her eyes.

With that, the last part of her soul crumbled. With a mighty thundering crash that only she heard, she lost consciousness. Her last memory of the world, realising she was now laying cheek down on the carpet of Liz' office.

One lonely tear drop made its' way gently down her cheek, falling unceremoniously on the floor beneath her.

* * *

_Buffy opens her eyes, she's standing against an unfamiliar bench top. Angel is standing right in front of her. Looking deeply into her eyes, a hidden silent plea. She was confused, what was going on? Where was she and how was she here? Just as she was about to put a voice to her thoughts, she looks down, realizing her hand is on his hand on the counter top. Even more astonishing was the heat radiating from him. They were almost chest to chest, she could feel his breath on her face. His breath. Angel was human. Ok, now she knew this had to be a dream. But it felt so real. _

_Buffy had many dreams about this exact scenario. The one where something amazing happens and Angel turns into a human, they kiss and make up, they get married, have children and then ride happily off into the sunset together. But she knew that's all they were – just the fantasies of a young woman desperately in love. This was no way real, and judging by the way he was looking at her, his deepest desires as dark and passionate as the rich, chocolatey brown orbs burying into her hazel eyes. Although it felt real, she could feel his hand under hers, it had to be a dream. Knowing she was going to regret this later – and she would – Buffy did the unthinkable. _

_Feeling him turn her hand in his, it was a sign. He was showing her his desires were an equal match to hers. Looking at him again, it was like an electrical charge burst through them and then before the moment could build to a monstrous intensity, they gave into the passion. They were slaves to passion and they were going to do anything it asked of them. _

_Angel couldn't believe what was coming over him. He had decided merely hours ago that he needed to let her go, let her have the life she deserved. But couldn't that life be with him now? Now he was human? He could take her into the light, he could take her all those places he used to only dream about. He could show her, make her feel things and to prove how much he loved her. Now it was a reality. He could be the man he wanted to be, for her. Not wanting to doubt himself, or hesitate even for a moment, his chance was now. He needed to feel her, touch her skin and allow her to feel him in return. _

_With a dominant pull, one that could leave no doubt about its' intentions, he pulls her into a kiss that straight away took him back to their first. The one time that he allowed himself to kiss her with abandon – even letting his demon come to the surface. It was as if he was possessed, no control over himself and for the first time in a long time, he was going to let his desires and his wants take over. The feel of her lips on his was a sweet nectar, up until this very moment, it was a forbidden fruit and now to taste that, it was his ecstasy. The feeling of her hands running through his hair, pulling his head closer to hers and deepening the kiss was his undoing. Like a man possessed, he pushed her back to the refrigerator and she moaned into his mouth. Angel knew that if he were still a vampire, he would be vamped out by now. _

_Buffy was stunned. She was taken over and a fire burned within her, she could only feel him all around her and the sensation was like none other – indescribable. Instead, she focused on his lips, his mouth, their tongues dancing to their desires. Feeling her back against the cold surface of the refrigerator, she lifts herself with abandon, his hands going automatically to hold her firmly against him. She needed to feel him in a way that was different to her first time with him. That night was slow, sensual, meaningful. Now, her appetite was only going to be satiated with pure unadulterated passion. Moaning into his lips, she began rocking herself against him, not holding a single part of herself back, she was going to let him have all of her, in every way possible. This dream was incredible and was so real, she never wanted to wake up. _

_She was feeding him, if he were still a vampire, he would be able to smell the scent of her desires. Pulling her lithe body away from the refrigerator, he brought her down hard onto the kitchen table, its' previous tenants now left scattered and broken on the floor. He couldn't care less, it could just be them in the middle of an apocalypse and he wouldn't care. He knew, tonight he was going to show her what kind of man he was. He was going to give her an experience that her seventeenth birthday had only just touched on. Thinking back to yesterday, his vampire senses told him then, that still, she had not opened herself to another man. Growling with dominance, that thought spurred him on. She was his, he was hers. Always. _

_He needed to show her that. But, he wanted to take his time and take care of her needs first and foremost. Angel had centuries of experience with women and that was one thing he was not ungrateful for – he could make her feel and experience things she had probably never even dreamt of. Her body was his temple and he was going to worship her like a goddess. _

_She was ablaze, the friction between her body and his, she was sure they were going to simply burn through their clothes. She needed to feel his skin under her hands, she wanted to rake her nails down the muscles on his back. Not taking her mouth from his, the feeling much too addictive, her hands make their way to the bottom of his shirt. Tugging at the hem, she makes sure it is completely free. Fumbling at the buttons, Angel pulls himself away briefly to allow her to continue their efforts. Grunting in frustration, she decides to simply rip the shirt – buttons flying in each direction. Clearly surprised by her loss of patience, Angel grins a cheeky grin into her kisses. Lips, tongues, hands, fingers. It was all they could do to concentrate on just physically loving each other. She still couldn't believe how real this felt, but as she grabbed hold of Angel's naked skin beneath his shirt, the warmth and sweat already starting to build was a firm reminder that this was yet still a dream. She held no inhibitions and wanted nothing more than to prove to Angel that she was no longer the timid seventeen year old. She had grown and at the back of her mind, she knew that fateful night sparked the beginning of her own sexual fantasies and desires. _

_Pulling at her sweater, Angel lifts his hands from her hips long enough to allow the offending fabric reach over her head. Moaning in appreciation at his touch on her soft, bare skin, both of their bodies providing those long desired sensations that could not be restrained. _

_Feeling her back against the cold hard surface of the table, she pulled her head up for a moment, resulting in Angel leaving wet passionate kisses across her neck and chest. Reaching the sensitive place that was her scar, the one he left only a short five months ago, he slowed his ministrations and paid particular attention to his mark. With his history as a vampire, Angel knew very well the effect it was having on her and her sweet moans of pleasure only served to encourage a more deliberate focus on the area. Through the haze occupying his mind he could barely hear her sweet encouragement._

"_Ang- uhhhhmmmmm...ahhhh...bed Angel...bed" Buffy could barely pant out her request._

_Without needing to think, Angel easily picks Buffy up off the table and carries her as quickly as possible towards the bed, swiftly undoing her bra in the process. Laying her gently on the bed, Angel removes her lace bra – Buffy grateful for a split second that she had the forethought to don a matching set that morning. Although, her bra was not what was on Angel's mind now. _

_Buffy. Buffy naked. Buffy naked in my bed_

_Curse – no, no curse. Human now. _

_Human. What can I do with Buffy? What can't I do with Buffy?_

_Interrupting his thoughts, Buffy lifts herself off the bed, needing to close any gap available between her and Angel – her carnal desires needing as much skin contact as possible. She was keen and telling by his hard length pressing against her stomach, she was sure that she was having the same effect on him, that he was on her. Buffy was humming from her very core and the throbbing between her thighs was growing stronger and stronger. Their kisses now became more frantic, needy and intense – kissing at anything that was in their way._

_Angel could hear her sweet moans and whimpers of pleasure escaping her now puffed lips and he could not help but groan loudly in appreciation. Feeling the pressure building in his loins, he cursed being human for the first time, the doubt in his mind that he may not last the distance. Buffy was pulling greedily at his head and neck, rubbing her mostly naked body up and down his, almost as if her were her last lifeline. There was no doubt in his mind that she was ready, he could feel it and he could see it. If he were still a vampire, he would be able to smell her arousal as well. Thinking back to their first night, he recalled her beautiful, virginal arousal and he could almost smell it again now. Though, now that sent would be mixed with his own. Strong desires to claim her as his own again, Angel growled loudly – a sexy, seductive moan to Buffy's ears. The fact she was turning him on like this, only served to add fuel to the flame and with her slayer powers, she was able to flip them effortlessly and now she was on top. She had dreamed of doing this to Angel and with this dream feeling so real, she had to take advantage. Buffy knew that in his mind, Angel would have his own plans as to how this would work, but she had a few of her own tricks up her sleeve. Grinning down at him seductively, she bites gently on her bottom lip, hips now grinding down on his – savouring the feeling of his obvious arousal, rubbing against her now wet panties. Rolling her head back in appreciation, Buffy boldly takes a hold of her firm breasts, the mounds overflowing her small, delicate hands. Opening her lids, the look on Angel's face alone was almost enough to make her reach her climax then and there. _

_She was damn sexy. He knew that she had this side in her and although he had plans of his own for the evening, Angel had no problems lying back and allowing her to pleasure herself on top of him. The view from this angle was nothing short of incredible. Her face, contorted into obvious sexual tension and pleasure, the rocking of her soft mounds to her swaying hips – he could even see her beautiful pink nipples harden in their own appreciation. The rocking and grinding motion of Buffy's hips was hypnotizing, Angel was getting lost in her and he needed to move quickly before she made him go over the edge. Damn not having his vampire stamina right now. Wanting to bring her to the same point of pleasure as him, he reaches up with a somewhat tentative hand, grabbing the softness of one of her breasts. Their size a perfect fit to his large, gentle hands – another reminder in his mind that they were made for each other. Tweaking a hard pebbly nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he is delighted to hear her loud squeals in pleasure and appreciation. Angel had to experience more. Moving into an upright position he places his mouth over her right breast, kissing and licking the sensitive area, artfully dodging the nipple itself. _

_She was in a perfect dream, a feeling she had never felt before and had only fantasized over a million times. She wanted to both savour, yet indulge in every touch, kiss and feeling coursing through her body right now. Buffy was being taken over the edge into a sweet, sexual abyss and she didn't want to stop at all. Reaching down, she pulls at the belt to Angel's pants. Not even knowing how she succeeded, the next thing she knows, she is grabbing hold of his long, hard erection – her slight hand barely covering the circumference. She recalled his size from her seventeenth birthday and for a fleeting moment, she hesitated, not sure if she could indeed take him completely again. As if answering her doubts, Angel lifts his head, looking at her under heavily lidded eyes. Moaning out her name it was the answer she needed._

"_hmmmmm...Buffy" Angel moaned into her nipple, causing it to harden even more, if that were even possible._

"_Angel" Buffy's response equalled Angel's in it's clear, pleasure laden state "I want, no, I need you. Need more" continuing her stroking of his cock, she lifts his head from her chest, kissing him forcefully so that she was not misunderstood. _

_With an unexpected speed, Angel flips Buffy so she is laying beneath him in his bed – a perfect image of dark satin sheets mixed with smooth tanned skin, golden hair and bright hazel eyes. Looking into her eyes he could see nothing more than love and trust and Angel tried hard to return the silent conversation through his own rapt brown orbs. Removing Buffy's trousers the two do all they can to avoid losing contact – any space between them an affront to their carnal desires. Not taking his eyes off hers, Angel rests himself down on his left arm and places a deep, wet kiss on her lips and slowly traces a hand up her right thigh – taking the time to enjoy the uncontrollable quivering in response. Reaching her wet heat, he traces a finger gently down the slit There was no mistaking, her body was reacting to his touch, his stiffening member throbbing in response. Angel wanted nothing more than to take this slow, but with Buffy grinding her hot, naked body up and down his chest he wasn't going to be able to hold back._

_It was starting to hit a fever pitch and Buffy could feel the wetness between her legs, she had never felt this level of arousal before and was amazed at how her body so wantonly reacted to his. She didn't want to take this slow, she wanted him now, inside her – the only thing that would satisfy her lustful appetite. Slowing down her motions, Buffy catches his eyes with her own. Chewing seductively on her bottom lip, she reaches down and places his weeping tip to her core, rubbing it ever so gently up and down, getting him every bit as slick as she knew she was. He was hot, burning hot and in those few moments could feel the painful throbbing of his cock in her hand. Had he not been with another woman since that night? Not wanting to spare any precious time to that thought, with one decisive movement, she glides the mushroom tip inside her, relishing the feeling of his hardness, stretching her insides again, not withholding a loud, lascivious cry of her own. As if in chorus, the two lovers breathe out a song of lust and sexual desires._

"_mmmmmmmmmBuffy" Angel cries out to the room, the sound of her name, so sexy to her ears._

"_Angeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel" throwing her head back, Buffy takes a hold of the sheet and mattress in her fists, writhing uncontrollably._

_Angel couldn't think straight, not a single recognised thought could be understood. He couldn't believe he was inside her, sheathed in her moist, tight core. It was heaven. This. Was heaven. Looking down at her face, her eyes closed shut, her head thrown back. Again all he could think – she was a picture of perfection. How did he deserve her? Interrupting his thoughts, his body takes over once again, reacting to her writhes beneath him. Sucking in his breath, trying to control the tightness in his balls, he sinks slowly and deeper inside her, filling her up completely. Trying not to cause any pain or discomfort, Angel focuses on making sure that she feels nothing but pure paradise. Resting for a moment, he waits for her to respond. Surprisingly, he needn't wait long and even more surprisingly, there was no hint of pain or unhappiness in her eyes. Just a look of pure desire and behind her eyes was still that trust, that love that only she seemed to believe he deserved._

_Buffy was so turned on, so full with him she was ready to burst. Feeling a boldness she'd never thought was in her, she all but begged him for more._

"_Angel, more. I want you. Need mooore..." groaning into his ear, breathing heavily and panting, she was possessed. _

_It was the final piece that pushed him to the limit. Breathing in control, he met her steady gaze with his own and pulled back, just allowing the tip to remain sheathed. Her gushing and moaning the sweetest song to his rhythm. Pushing back further inside, he could feel her tight walls constricting around him, the feeling of her slayer strength gripping him with all their might. She was pumping him hard and he knew it wouldn't last as long as he had wanted, but deep down he knew they just needed to claim each other once again. His thrusts coming longer and stronger, Buffy's body and voice persuading him on. _

"_Oh Buffy, Buffy. Buuuuufffy" he could barely speak between his steady rhythmic bucks. _

_Buffy could feel the tingling sensation building up inside her and it was easy to see that Angel needed to feel his release as she did. Urging him on physically, she pulled his head down to hers, laving at his ear and hearing his voiced appreciation, Buffy whispered clearly and softly into his ear "Angel, take me. I'm yours, I love you. Love you. Forever" he was groaning louder and louder, the sounds of their bodies crashing against one another passionately, the only other sound above their heavy breathing and heady moans. _

_Shocking him back to the moment, he drew his head back and took in the look in her eyes. She meant it, but he could see the doubt behind her words. She wanted it, she needed him to want her and he only had to prove to her that he could give her everything she had ever wanted or desired. _

"_I love you too Buffy. Always". And with that, he drove further and deeper (if it were possible) into her, stronger and harder. Hands grabbing at skin, hers against his chiselled chest and abs, his head, the back of his neck and his long, muscular back. Hands were everywhere and in response to his pace, he could feel her nails digging deeper and deeper into his shoulders, encouraging him even further. On Angel's part he focused on kissing her anywhere his mouth could reach. Her lips, her cheek, ears, neck. He was giving her all he could and she was taking him all. There was only one woman in his entire history who could take him and it was this woman, Buffy. His Buffy. He was getting close and knew that Buffy was reaching her climax as well. It was exactly at that point where Buffy muttered the words even in his most vivid fantasies she would never say._

_Reaching her hips up with every one of his thrusts, Buffy met each single movement equally with her own. Holding his face in her hands, she met her lips with his and kissed him with more feeling and emotion than she thought she had left in her. Groaning. Kissing. Moaning. Sweating._

_It was an otherworldly experience. Giving each of their selves to the other entirely and completely. Not having to worry about the consequences and just to experience the moment of pure happiness together. The heat between them and the friction of his length moving in and out of her core, harder and deeper, she felt the tingling sensation grow from the tips of her toes, flushing right through to the sensitive skin on her scalp. Holding onto him, the warmth of her orgasm washed around her body, causing the walls of her sopping core to constrict to a new pressure. Allowing her to ride out her climax, Angel pushed once, twice and lastly with the remaining energy left in him, one more final thrust and he too felt his climax ride through him and into her, filling her up with his own essence._

_Breathing heavily, now that being the only sound in the room, Angel was gentle to rest his body down on hers, enjoying the sticky feeling of their combined sweat. A sweet reminder of their only moments ago, activities. Even without his demon scent, he could smell the sex and sweat in the room and he had never felt more deeply happy or content before this moment. They had let themselves go, only to be found and saved by one another when the moment called._

_Reaching up and guiding her hair behind her ear, Angel looked in her eyes, with all the love and emotion he could conjure. _

"_Buffy, I...I love you, I've never stopped. Are you still my girl?" His brows furrowed for a moment, almost too scared to hear her answer as if their previous intimacy had just been his imagination._

_Catching her breath in her throat, Buffy knew only one way to answer._

"_Always"_

**There you have it, that is the culmination of all of Chapter 4. Next episode we see what happens to Buffy and whether Angel can help. **

**I hope you liked this chapter and it was a really hard one, as I said at the beginning. I really wanted to depict that deep down, they both know that they are meant for each other both physically and spiritually/emotionally. In my view of what happened in the bedroom of IWRY, Buffy has grown up and is no longer mentally a seventeen year old virgin anymore and that is Angel's experience during this scene. This is likely going to be it for those kinds of themes for the rest of the story (that I have planned so far). **

**I should be able to update again within a couple of days.**

**Thanks everyone for reading and also for any of you who have taken the time to review. This is likely the only chapter I'll ask for reviews, but only because I've not written anything like this before! **


	8. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of BtVS or Angel. All characters (except for my original character, 'Raegan') belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. **

**Chapter 5**

Bolting upright in his bed, Angel grabbed a hold of his chest; fighting back staggered, unneeded breaths. Remembering back to his dream a moment ago, only one disturbing memory crossed his mind.

"Buffy..." her name the only sound, breaking the silence hanging in the room.

Rubbing his hands through his hair, Angel couldn't calm himself. It was as if the very blood coursing his veins was reaching a boiling pitch. He couldn't put a finger on his hunch, but this feeling inside, he knew. He knew it was Buffy.

Truth be told, Angel had loved and been with many women over the span of his two-hundred and fifty years of life and un-life. He'd experienced heartache, loss, evil, good, apocalypses – even Hell itself. He had seen and felt it all, the whole gamut of feelings and emotions. But this feeling, right in this moment was a very new one. It was as if his reason for being was no longer in existence. This could only lead him to one answer. It was Buffy. Reaching over to his side table, he looked to his clock which read 10:41am. His bones were aching with a drained feeling and it wasn't due to only having four hours of sleep.

Quickly, Angel moved out of the bed, clumsily knocking over the ornately carved wooden box on his bedside table. Time stood still. In slow motion, a small silver and shiny object drew his attention. Watching Buffy's claddagh ring spin through the air and falling on the cold wooden floor, it was like he was watching her very heart fall to the ground with it. Angel was panicking, caught of guard by a vivid image in his mind of Buffy falling to the ground.

He looked to his empty hand. He had reached out to catch the ring but was too slow.

She was gone – was she? Had he lost the only woman who had truly loved the man and the demon in him? The one person in all the world who made sense and gave him a genuine purpose and reason behind his plans for making amends?

He roared in anger. Hadn't they told him that without his demon powers, she was going to die? But now it was going to happen anyway? He cried out in anger and pain. It was a dangerous cocktail of emotions for both the man and demon inside him.

"NOOOOOOOOOO! BUFFY!" He jumped forward, attacking the first thing in his path. Punching a hole in the wall beside the doorway, he stumbled forward, landing on his knees. He was hit like a train with the feeling of helplessness. Had his decisions been all for naught? Had he done the wrong thing, even though he had intended a life of happiness and fulfillment for his beloved? There were so many questions and he knew deep down there was not enough time to answer them all.

He made his way to the door way, tears of anger and frustration, but also a deep sadness pooling around his eyes.

"Buffy, no...nooooooo, Buffy" he was panting.

Panic.

Making his way to the front desk, Cordelia was sitting at the counter pre-occupying herself with something - that he would later recall - not work related.

"What are you doing awake so early, I thought..." she took one look at his face and she knew there was no point finishing her question. Something was clearly not of the good about this picture. Angel was known for keeping his cool and he never cried. He looked like a mess. She watched him as he reached desperately for the phone receiver, dialing what must have been a number he knew by heart. Noticing the dialing code, she knew where he was calling. Sunnydale.

That only meant one thing.

Buffy.

"Giles, Buffy. Where...I...I...Buffy is she, is she okay? Tell me" He was struggling with his thoughts. He had so many questions and Angel needed to know for sure if she was ok "Sick? Sick, how? Why didn't you?...okay, I'm coming there...no Giles, tonight. I will be there straight away."

Robotically, he put the receiver down, staring blankly at the desk. Giles had informed him that she had felt increasingly ill the last few weeks, but she was going to see a doctor this morning. So, she didn't seem to be...no. He didn't even want to acknowledge that thought. Banishing any ideas of her no longer being alive, Angel felt confused. He remembered vividly, the differences in Buffy during his visit over Thanksgiving. She felt...empty. Like, she was no longer the same woman he had fallen in love with. She looked the same, but yet, she wasn't.

It was in stark contrast to her visit to LA. Thinking back to those memories of the day that never was, Angel felt as if a knife was twisting through his chest. He winced, furrowing his brows. The thoughts were painful to recall. There was no denying the spark that was in Buffy that day. She was the most incredible woman, his sun and life. He remembered the beautiful scent of her hair, the touch of her smooth, soft skin. She was alive and she was present that day, she was more grown and mature and she was the object of all of his desires. But now, he felt the emptiness that she seemed to have felt during his time in Sunnydale. Something was seriously wrong, Angel knew it – there must be some kind of connection to Buffy and how he was feeling right now.

Angel deliberately ignored the stunned look on Cordelia's face and made his way back to his room. Although he knew he would not able to sleep his way through the sunlight, he would sure as hell spend what was left of the day brooding.

* * *

Lazily opening her eyes, Buffy felt a sense of calm and peacefulness she had not experienced since...well, ever. With slow, languid movements she sat up leaning on her left hip, her left hand holding her up. Rubbing gently at her eyes, she took a relaxing deep breath. Leaving her right hand to rest across her brows, she noticed how bright it was, although Buffy was completely unsure as to where she was exactly. Looking around, she could only see white. A bright, fluorescent-type of white. Cautiously making her way to a standing position, she felt a firm hardness under her feet. It was as if she were standing on a regular floor, however she could see no floor. Everything around her was white. How did she get here? Was this another slayer dream?

Feeling her slayer senses kick into over-drive, she could tell that she was being watched.

"No Warrior. This is not a dream" a soft spoken voice, but with a firm tone, drew her attention.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She was feeling very confused, wasn't sure how she got here and had a feeling that something was very wrong.

As if reading her thoughts, the mysterious voice replied "Don't be troubled, there are powers at work here, which are out of your control".

Buffy had heard these types of omens before, yet paid no mind. She had beat death and apocalypses before, why should this be any different? What 'powers' was this voice referring to? She needed some answers and also something tangible to fight. Who is this voice?

"Aaahh. I see your mind Slayer. However, as I said, things are out of yours...and my control. Would it appease you to see me in my corporeal form? It appears you are confused. Don't allow me to concern you. There is much more at stake here."

Wracking her brain, Buffy tried to grasp her wandering thoughts. Something wasn't right. Looking down at her feet again, she noticed for the first time that she didn't recognise her clothing. Everything was white. In frustration, she clutched at her torso – pulling at the soft cotton singlet. Flashes of faces, memories and thoughts came crashing down.

One thing really concerned her. That was it. A baby.

Her baby.

No, hers and _Angels_ baby.

"The baby. What, what happened to my baby?!" she placed her hands across her still flat stomach again, in desperation, trying to gain some sense of the early life inside her. She waited helplessly for an answer. For something. After several moments of silence, she couldn't hold back the flooding of emotions to hit her. Sobbing, the slayer let out her fears, holding her hands to her face, she was surprised that she had shed no tears. It was as if she couldn't cry.

Had she lost the baby?

Feeling a soft hand lift her chin up, her eyes met calm, blue ones. Looking into their owners face, she saw a man – not much taller than herself. His sparkling, yet wise eyes spoke to her more than any words could. Buffy could not help feeling a wave of calm overtake her.

"Hush young one" with a gentle nod and a small smile, the man waved his hand across her face. "Your child is in no danger right now".

Buffy was distracted by the image in front of her. As he waved his hand, a vision appeared in the air. She could see a hospital bed...and there was her Mom, seated in the chair beside. Standing by the door was Giles, Willow and Xander. Looking closer, Buffy could see it was her in the bed, with so many tubes and machines attached to her. Her body looked still and lifeless, yet she could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. This couldn't be right, Buffy again frantically felt around her own body, where the tubes and machines were attached. She appeared to be fine.

"No...no, I...I don't understand. That – that isn't real. It's not me! I'm...I'm..." looking around at the white expanse and up to the man in front of her, she lost her resolve. "...fine" she knew that wasn't the case. None of this made sense.

"May I call you by your name? Buffy, is it?" he looked at her earnestly. Eliciting a brief nod in between her quiet sobs, the being continued. "Buffy, tell me. What do you know about 'the soul'?" Seeing him gesture behind her, she turned to find a small wooden bench seat. Shrugging it off she takes a seat and can't help but rub at her temples. The confusion of it all was giving her a headache. Why was he talking about _souls_? It was such a profound question to her though. Her life somewhat revolved around the existence (or non-existence, for that matter) of one soul in particular and its owners rather tentative possession of it...all due to her. She smiled ruefully. "Ughhh...preaching to the choir there..." she sighed and closed her eyes. Considering that she (wait, was it _her_?) was pregnant right now with the soul in question, there were so many painful memories that also came along with it. Despite the fact that now she appeared to be in some bizzaro limbo land and had no idea what was happening, even if everything was 'ok', the idea of the perfect family with...well...that particular soul, was certainly not on the cards.

Angel had left her twice. The first time breaking up with her and secondly, during her too-short time in LA, he had made the decision to not be with her. His intentions were abundantly clear to her. If she could make sense of this current state of affairs, and if she did end up having a baby (could slayers even have children?), single motherhood was something she needed to come to terms with and fast. It appeared that Angel wanted nothing to do with her, surely that would extend to having a child to her – something that would ultimately link them together for as long as she lived? There were so many things running through her mind and she needed to gain control. Right now, she was stuck in the middle of big. Fat. Nothing. And apparently, discussing the finer details of...souls? Groaning in resignation, she was once again interrupted.

"I see you have a lot to learn, Buffy. If all you know is in relation to one soul only, well you must understand that you know very little indeed." He waited patiently, allowing the hidden message to truly sink in.

"So I'm guessing this...whatever 'this'" she threw an arm out into the air ahead of her "Is, I'm going to be here for a while?" he was looking far off into the unintelligible distance and seemed to be looking at something she couldn't see. Seeing his brief nod, the first answer to one of her own questions now satisfied, she wanted to open that particular door of knowledge, just that little bit farther. "How. How long exactly are we talking?" she gazed once again to his face. Trusting her slayer instincts, she knew that he wasn't batting for the evil guys, but that was not to say he was all Mr. 'Good Guy' either.

He was still staring straight ahead, and she watched as he took a long, sideways glance in her direction. It was as if he was listening to another conversation that she was not privy to. She waited. Waited some more. Buffy was almost ready to give up and break the uncomfortable silence when she heard him speak.

"Time is of no concern right now. What you need to understand, is that you have to heed my words in preparation for you to make a choice. When the time comes Buffy, you will need to make that choice. It is of the utmost importance that you understand the significance of this request and that you must not regret your decision."

His words had two affects on her. Firstly, despite the deafening silence around her, his request hit her like almighty thunder. Secondly, her usual curiosity took over. "So, what is this choice I have to make then?" Buffy tried to come off confident, but she couldn't hide the hesitation she truly felt.

"That is not for me to tell. I do not yet know what it will be anyway. Each choice and decision is different for everyone who meets us here."

Cryptic. He was being cryptic. Why didn't her life just come with a handbook? Some kind of directions to where it was she needed to go, and providing all of the answers to life's greatest mysteries? Life wasn't easy though, she had learnt that the hard way at the tender age of 18. She was still a teenager and all thanks to her long (by slayer standards) career as the chosen one, Buffy had lived through more than most who make it well into their centenary. One doesn't live and not learn though – particularly in her line of work. Resigning herself to the hard road (and not the oh-so tempting option of the easy one), Buffy bounced up off the wooden bench and looking straight into the...man's (wait, was he a man?) face. "Ok, so. We do this by the book then. How do I know I can trust you though? How can you show me you are one of the good guys?" she continued, jutting her chin out. She looked down her nose to him. He was still staring blankly ahead.

He appeared tired and drained, definitely not the look of someone who held all of the power. Or, certainly not someone who was prepared to yield and utilise said, hypothetical power. She didn't even know if he _did _have powers. He came out of nowhere though? She thought to herself. Some kind of witch powers.

He watched her as she continued her tirade, could practically read her internal dialogue as if it was written across her features. Somewhat amused, Raegan thought about how his day (not that they really had 'days' here) had started for him – much the same as usual. If The Minders Elite had told him that he was being tasked with a Warrior, he would have withdrawn. He was still considered one of the lower ranked Minders and he certainly wasn't in their good graces after some recent 'indiscretions' on his part. So, Buffy's arrival in his quadrant had been a huge surprise to him as well as Buffy clearly was. Speaking telepathically with his Consort, Freija, she informed him that The Elite were to pass on specific instructions. Buffy was his charge indefinitely and if things did not work out...they would be reconsidering his rank within the sanctum.

One thing was for sure. Right now, he didn't want to be here any more than the woman in front of him. He drew his attention back to Buffy. Her confusion was starting to turn more into aggression and he needed to diffuse this fast.

"...and, AND! You know my name, I don't even know yours! I can't trust someone whose name I don't eve-..." she was now facing away from him, pacing the ground in what seemed to be a well practised pattern.

"Raegan. You may call me Raegan"

Swooping around to face him again, her hair swept around her face, creating an almost halo effect. With a sideways glance of her own, she huffed "Well, was that so hard, Raegan? Now that I feel we are good ol' chummy pals, how about you tell me, how can I trust you?" Buffy rested her hands on her hips, leaning her weight back on her left leg. Although she was looking right at him, she couldn't seem to mentally grasp and hold onto his human features. Only his deep, blue eyes. It was as if everything else seemed to be blurry, like she was wearing a strange pair of glasses, whose prescription was way off.

He smirked at her question. Trust. It could be such a fickle concept for most and yet he could sense its importance to her. No doubt due to her position on Earth and her previous experiences.

He could work with trust, though.

"Trust. Ok Buffy, tell me. Who _do _you trust? Who do you believe would undoubtedly lay their lives down for you?" He needed to get into her mind and and memories and to do this, he needed some kind of base to build from.

The question actually took her by surprise and she turned away again, to hide her response. Buffy knew she had several people in her life who she could trust, despite the fact that Slayer-dom was supposed to be a one way ticket to solo-town. Running over her most trusted circle, she thought of her Mom first. No, as much as she knew that she could trust her with anything, she also wanted to keep her away from the slayer world as much as possible. Giles? The man who she thought of as a father figure, she knew that he had only the best intentions for Buffy, but trusting someone meant more than their intentions. Willow, Xander even? As much as she loved her best friends, she really wasn't sure if this was a life and death trust scenario on their part. Especially as the last few months had been so difficult since Angel...Angel.

Angel.

Was he _that_ one? Could he be the answer to that particular question? It seemed an easy and innocent enough request on Raegan's behalf, however could the answer be more difficult for her to come to terms with? To be honest with herself?

It was true, taking the fact that he had broken up with her and then turning back time to erase a perfect day with her, she still knew deep down that he would give anything for her. She knew this was the truth because she felt the same for her. Perhaps this was what Raegan meant by not being concerned with time? When it came to Angel, she wasn't sure that there was enough time ever existed or to be in existence that would allow her to really understand hers and his feelings. But this was a start.

Turning back to Raegan again, she whispered dreamily "Ang-" expecting bright blue eyes, her eyes met with a familiar broad chest. Slowly, shyly even, she scanned up and felt tears spring to the corners of her eyes as she stared into rich brown ones instead.

"Angel?" What? How?

**Thanks for reading and for the reviews.**

**Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I was unfortunately the recent victim of having no work/life balance which was then followed up by the always hectic Christmas/New Year break. **

**Happy New Year everyone!**


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